Harry Potter and the Breath of Life
by Shujin1
Summary: Sequel to HPaDI. The Chamber of Secrets has reopened and both students and teachers are swept into Harry's issues with the Incarnates. Act, and he loses his life to Death. Don't act and the consequences may just be the same...
1. The First Exhale

_**I encourage reviews of any type.**_

**A/N: I plan to keep up the same update schedule for this as I did for HPaDI, so no worries!**

**Harry Potter and the Breath of Life**

* * *

_"I suppose, that looking back, I can see that I have always been a rather selfish person. A half-blood whelp who wanted much more than he deserved from Fate. I pushed hard against my limitations and when the inspiration struck me, I pushed harder. There was nothing too bold, too forbidden or too impossible for me to accomplish in my self-centered mind. When I caught the attention of one of THEM, a stern looking man with a square jaw and bandages covering his eyes, I thought I had hit the jackpot. He had so much to tell! I was astounded at my good fortune and for once life seemed to be finally falling into place. And then, then he made me promise not to use my new knowledge for projects above my station. Soon after, the Ministry became deeply interested in my studies, recognition at last! I was respected, gained access to the most dark of secrets under the Ministry building, given endless resouces, a dream come true. But then I wondered, where would it all go once old age caught up to me? I asked my patron and so unfolded the history of the universe: the Weave. I could be Chosen, he said, but I would have to fade from the public eye which was as good as dying. Or I could be given immortality and simply continue on forever but challenges with fatal consequences had to be passed first. It seemed impossible but as a scholar and not a fighter, I had the answer. I had only sworn not to elevate myself but if I should create something that then chose to help me out...in essence, confronted with the gods...I cheated." - Thaddeus Burwright, Unspeakable Traitor_

* * *

Seven may have been a magical number but three was a universal one.

Multiples of threes, such as six, nine and twelve had a certain importance to them. It was August 9th, the ninth lunar month and the ninth day, a full moon and exactly at midnight...not even Mystery could have planned it better. It was a time in which mortal magics were particularly weak to the workings of those immortal and with a large scale event such as this, the less obstacles there were, the better.

And even if she wouldn't admit it, Palquenta needed all the help she could get.

Dressed simply in a plain white dress on the shore of Hogwarts, the platinum-blonde didn't look like anything worth fearing in the shadow of the majestic castle behind her. She had an oval face with soft and delicate features, beautiful in the girl-next-door kind of way with an imperceptible aura of light around her. Had any mortal actually been able to see her, they might have thought her a pureblood witch of some sort or even a half-blood. But she wasn't. Pal, unlike her Opposite, Thanatos the Incarnate of Death, didn't have a single magical bone in her body.

Instead, she was simply the embodiement of Life and Hogwarts was under her jurisdiction.

"Sure, are you," A masculine voice whispered. "That you must do this?"

"Sure of it, I am." she whispered back, vibrant blue eyes staring unceasingly into the waters. "Why, would you stop me?"

With an irritated sigh, a colourfully dressed man in lime green and purple robes with grey bandages wrapped around his eyes faded into sight. "Is there a reason why no one is heeding my warnings anymore?" he grated. "In truth, you are all like spoiled children."

A small smile formed on her face, free of all bitterness or spite that was usually lurking beneath. "Just keeping you on your toes, Truth." He snorted and for a moment her smile grew wider...and then faded. "But really, why are you here?"

"The Forest," he said immediately. "In truth, it has nothing to do with your challenge, would you mark the life within as merely collateral damage?"

Her brow furrowed, but with a nod she agreed. "The lake I will spare as well, declare it."

Truth raised both hands, one in the direction of the Forbidden Forest and the other pointing down to the surface of the lake. "I, Truth, declare the truth be thus: Both the Forbidden Forest and the Merpeople's Lake are exempt from the changes brought on by Life Incarnate."

Pal shifted just enough to see him out the corner of her eye. "So mote it be," she intoned and something _old_ swept out of Truth's hands. The Forest shimmered and the lake pulsed with a silver light.

Scratching his cheek, Truth harrumphed. "Officially, I am to serve you, but unofficially, I know everything." If Palquenta had been able to see his eyes, despite the mock-annoyed tone he had, she would have seen disappointment flashing there. "I cannot say win or lose but I can say this: In truth, it will not turn out, how you want it," he finished seriously.

Pal bit her lip. "I know."

He looked stunned for a moment but then just shrugged his shoulder, sighing. "So long as you know..." The Incarnate of Truth inclined his head, and disappeared.

Palquenta raised her arms upward towards the full moon and cupped her hands as if she was prepared to bring it crashing down to earth, silver was beginning to bleed into her blue eyes. "Life hereby rejects Hogwarts!" She paused, trembling with the strain of holding something powerful back. She could forget all of this, simply sit it out. Wait it out, perhaps even say what she wanted to all these millenia to Thana's smirking face...but than an image flashed in her mind. Of a girl with almost white hair, curled up in a ball sobbing underneath a huge tree...her Tree...and her resolve hardened.

"So. Mote. It. Be!"

Even from outside, one could see the castle get dark as a black mist invaded it, dousing lights and stealing the lingering conscious of the wards, the heart of Hogwarts was now gone. Pal had given it as a gift to four extra-ordinary people and now she was taking it back.

As she faded from the mortal world, work done, the blood curdling cry of a pheonix in pain rang out to the heavens.

And far away in Sweden, Harry Potter cried out in his sleep.

* * *

_He was dreaming..._

_Being swept away by an ocean tide...no...this wasn't water...being carried by a whirlpool, spinning now... _

_Molten silver, but no heat? A sharp flash of green on his right..._

_Liquid stars? A cry..."Not Harry!"_

_Where was he? A river of some sort maybe? It had a shore..._

_A monolith was rising in the distance...a pyramid then as he turned away...an obelisk when he blinked...too many shadows to see properly, and in them far too many faces..._

_And then a whisper: Come...I have something to show you..._

_The river spat him out, laying him flat on his back, feeling course black sand beneath his fingers, just staring up...a giant loom appeared, filled with threads of every colour that existed...there was a pattern to it, but he couldn't make it out. A vision of planets and stars flashed before his eyes and he, bizarrely, compared it to feeling a hand on his shoulder._

_And then the pattern began to shift...to make sense...and he saw..._

Harry was roughly shaken away from his dream. "Go'way," he mumbled sleepily, curling into his pillow that had somehow gotten trapped between his legs, barely registering the tingling of his scar. "Lemme sleep...Mmana?"

Someone exhaled noisily. "Sure," a feminine voice said, sounding strangely relieved. "You can go back to sleep, just...stay out of my head, boy."

A large and open grin, the one only people who weren't paying attention because they were half-asleep could make, crossed Harry's face. "Promise..."

Thana pulled back and watched the boy drift off again with an uneasy smile.

* * *

It wasn't the first time Harry had been woken up this way, but every morning he always swore that it would be the last.

"OW! Get off, get off!"

You'd think Thana had never heard of springs, or beds before.

"It's not like I gave you a mortal wound and then let you die, you big baby."

Because every morning since he got to the Ergusson Manor, she would jump on his bed and more often than not, land on him or his legs. And god damn it, he thought she'd be lighter. Maybe if she laid off the ice cream...

"No, but you're breaking my legs, fat ass!" After being plucked on his forehead for the comment, he was able to free his legs and curl them up close to him as they ached. "What do you want now?" he almost whined.

Thana blinked and then tilted her head as she leaned back on her elbows, face scrunching up in slight confusion. "Hey...you wouldn't happen to have a house elf...would you?" she asked lightly, sweeping an arm at his bedroom door as if to indicate something beyond it.

"Um, noooo...?"

"Huh," she muttered, a slight frown appearing. "Well if it's not yours...then what is it doing here demanding you don't go back to Hogwarts?"

Harry's emerald eyes widened in surprise. "I have...no idea. Hogwarts elf?" She shook her head once. "Ok, I'll be there to see it in a minute." Thana put a bored look on her face, but didn't move from the foot of the bed. The boy could feel warmth spreading up his neck to his cheeks. "Um, I sleep in my boxers." Her right eyebrow twitched upwards.

"And...?" she drawled. "You're still wearing clothes."

"I'm not letting you see me in my underwear!" he hissed, clutching the blankets tighter and face fire engine red. "So get!" He made a shooing motion with his free hand.

She just rolled her eyes at him. "Alright, alright...I'm going..."

Once she closed the door, Harry focused on a mental finger and used it to poke the presence that lived in his head. _--What do you want?--_

_Rise and shine!_ Cue mental groaing. _Come on, you act as if you actually sleep._

_--For your information, I do to sleep, dumb butt--_

Harry paused in the act of shuffling into a plain black robe incredulously. _Dumb butt?_

_--I, uh--_ the sound of a small cough _--I don't like swearing...--_

Harry dropped the subject and just made his way out of his room in the northern most turrent to the foyer, the room he saw when he first entered the manor. Thana was there, still looking uninterested against the wall and there was this...fanatic looking house elf bouncing up and down on his toes in front of her. Big floppy ears, bulbous eyes that had this scary gleam in them and disgusting clothes on. A toga of some sort made out of used rags, it looked like.

As soon as the elf spotted him, that gleam grew brighter. "Harry Potter, sir?"

_--We have a fan elf-- _a whisper said dryly.

Harry almost took a step back as Thana's face shifted into one of mild amusement. "Er, yes? Can I help you?"

It seemed to be the wrong thing to say as big fat tears started to shine in the elf's eyes. "Harry Potter is asking if he could help Dobby! Harry Potter, sir, is being kind, not like my master..." The tears suddenly evaporated as the elf's face twisted in horror. It looked frantically around and spotted the mailing desk off to the side. It made it's way towards it but ran into Thana's leg.

"Whoa there, not on the furniture." So it began to beat its head into the floor.

"Bad Dobby! _Thunk!_ Bad, _Thunk! _bad, bad, _Thunk! _bad! Dobby is bad elf, _Thunk! _saying bad things about Master!" Thana and Harry exchanged glances but didn't make a move to stop it.

"If you're just going to punish yourself, you can do that elsewhere you know." Harry said a bit uncomfortably. The elf halted and attempted to straighten itself up.

"Dobby is sorry, but, Harry Potter, sir, must not go to Hogwarts!"

Harry allowed himself an eyebrow quirk. "Why not?"

"Bad things be happening! Harry Potter is great wizard! Must not be hurt!" He couldn't help the arrogant smile that crossed his face at that.

"Dobby...I've been hurt before, but I'm still alive. A little pain won't kill me."

The elf's eyes bugged as he cried out, "Dobby has message!" The elf dug around in his toga, which turned the boy a bit green, and brought out a smooth pebble that immediately attracted Thana's attention. Dobby dropped it and it clattered to the floor with unnaturally metallic pings. It shimmered and an image of a woman in dark green robes, with short tawny hair and red eyes appeared, floating above it.

"I'm sorry to have to resort to this barbaric method of passing a message, Boss," it said in a distant voice. "But there is more to Life's challenge than what it seems at first glance. I would recommend that you don't leave the boy there alone if you place any value on that mortal. I despise you, but when you're miserable, you let us all know it."

Harry just blinked as the magical recording ended. "Was that real?"

Thana nodded, looking distracted by something and the elf put on a watery smile. "See? Harry Potter, sir, must not go!"

The boy rolled his eyes upwards, ignoring the snickers in his head, resisting the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose. "No, Dobby, I'm going. You won't change my mind."

The elf's ears dropped. "Then Dobby must do what Dobby must..." The house elf vanished with a pop. Harry looked around, trying to spot a surprise attack but Dobby didn't reappear. He turned to Thana because he just _knew_ she did something.

"Where'd he go?"

"Hmm?" she murmured, not meeting his eyes. "Oh, I just told the wards to kick him out before he could pull anything..."

"Useful, that." She made a noncommital sound in her throat.

"Useless."

* * *

She was painting an angel in hell.

Quick, angry strokes brought a figure garbed in crimson stained white to life. Flowing hair, sharp eyebrows, silver eyes and majestic golden wings arcing out to each side of the angel, more than a few feathers missing and rivulets of black running down them. The surroundings were a muddy mixture of puke green, acid yellow, swampy brown and liberal splashes of red. There were barbed chains digging into the legs and wrists, locked into praying a prayer that would never be answered.

It was a picture of agony undeserved and Hel thought it her best work.

"I have the diary." A whisper sounded from behind her, disgusted and sick.

"Good. This is your challenge, have fun with it, will you?" Hel answered easily, putting a few finishing touches on her piece. Some scars. She could tell when Palquenta actually looked at what she was painting because a harsh gasp was the result.

"Who...are you painting?" she asked shakily.

With a final twirl of her brush, Hel looked over it critically.

"You."

* * *

Welcome back, readers to the next installment. Tell me what you think, better or worse? Excited to find out what's happening or annoyed with me? Review!


	2. Diagon Alley Again

_**I encourage reviews of any type.**_

**Harry Potter and the Breath of Life**

_"In this book you will learn of the habitats and characteristics of animals you were no doubt told didn't exist. Myth, legend, tall tales, but in each story is a nugget of Truth. We are already aware of thestrals, creatures that can't be seen until a death witnessed, what is to say that similar animals don't exist? That Nargles or Humdingers don't have secrets of their own that they wish to keep? We cannot see the wind but we can feel its presence and see what it affects. So why then are Memirs, worms that are attracted to fear and are responsible for the 'shiver down the spine' said to not exist? We feel it. Hair-knot forming Nargles...pheremone spurting Glucite bugs..don't pay any attention to these double standards. Wizards and witches, with the ability to disillusion themselves, have no excuse! It's one of the many unwritten laws of the magical world: Just because you can't see it, doesn't mean it's not there." - Excerpt from Creatures of Legend That Do Exist! by Celeste Marianne Lovegood_

* * *

"Ah, anything I can help you with, Mr. Potter?" Harry turned and took in Tom the bartender's gap-toothed nervous smile silently. The moment he had stepped into the Leaky Cauldron, it was as if his senses had been kicked into overdrive...without actually doing so. He thought he could smell more, but wasn't sure. Colours appeared to be more vibrant but it was an unsure thing, kicking in when he spotted a rat going down an alley, but disappearing when he looked at a car. He felt like ants were pouring over his skin as he stood there in the dim pub and his muscles were tensing for no reason.

Thana, who was fully corporeal this time around and still in the guise of the deceased Constanze, stepped forward and nudged the boy discretely. "We'll be fine, thank you," she informed in a clipped tone of voice, sounding as if she was barely restraining the urge to turn her nose up. Tom's grin faded a bit but he nodded and went back to washing what looked like the same glass he had been scrubbing last year.

Harry knew that was his cue to start moving in the direction of the back exit but it was like he grew roots.

_--Are you alright?--_

He just couldn't take his eyes off the bartender, off his neck.

It wasn't a pretty neck, covered in gristle and some traces of grime. Leathery skin, a protruding Adam's apple and thick tendons but he could see a pulse. Without realizing it, he began to lean forward a little, as if preparing to reach out and grab-

He was whacked upside the head.

He gulped down a yelp and turned his head to glare at Thana who had an oblivious innocent look on her face. "What was that for?" he hissed and she just tilted her head to the side, making him growl.

"Restrain yourself," she said simply, before her voice turned cold. "Before I rip the ability out of you." Harry's eyes widened as the blood drained out of his face, stomping on the impulse to take several steps back.

"Okay," he murmured. Inside his head, a whisper leapt to reassure him.

_--Taking life is addicting, she just doesn't want you to become a mad mass murderer--_ An image flashed into his mind of a gaunt man with wild black hair and solid onyx eyes, holding an obsidian blade covered in blood, yelling in some foul language. Harry shook his head to dispel the picture.

_I'm not going to go psycho._ he thought firmly and there was a mental sigh.

_--So you say--_

Thana's left hand used the back of his neck to guide him out the back exit to the dead end muggle alleyway where she tapped a brick. Just like last year, the wall shifted open, inversely collapsing in a spiral to reveal Diagon Alley, the place he was going to get his second year school supplies from...as well as meet Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy. He took a breath and stepped through.

* * *

At any other time, Harry might have complained about being forced to buy Thana a banana split but this time, it was a very good stalling tactic. They had gotten practically everything on the list and even some extra stuff such as officially ordaining "Constanze Ergusson" as Harry's cosigner for the vaults and sending a request for transfer of guardianship through to the Ministy.

All that he needed now, were the books for DADA.

But he had seen the hell that tried to pass itself off as Flourish and Botts.

"Who came up with ice cream, anyway?" Thana mumbled around a small spoon. Harry raised his eyes from his own Brownie Sprinkle Delight (no Brownies were harmed in the making the sign read) but seeing her sucking on the silver eating utensil made him shift uncomfortably, feeling heat rise in his face.

"Um, some guy a couple hundred years ago?" he guessed, averting his gaze to the people wandering past Fortescue's. Damn, the line had grown even longer. Who the hell was this Lockhart guy anyway? So the dandy wrote a few books, he defeated Voldemort! Twice!

"Dead?"

"Yeah, probably," he said faintly, watching as the crowd continued to grow in dismay. At this rate it would take hours for him to be able to grab his books, maybe even a day, sheesh. Despite all of the people, there was no sign of the familiar platinum blond hair of his fellow Slytherin or even of people that might be related to him.

"Fuck," he heard her curse under her breath and then louder, "Probably too late to make him immortal for a job well done, huh?"

Harry turned his head and gave her an incredulous stare. "That's all a person has to do? Make something for your sweet tooth and they're immortal just like that?"

She had the grace to look sheepish but not apologetic. "But I like it..." she whined, spoon still sticking out of her mouth. "And I like you, not as much as ice cream, but enough so don't complain!"

"I rank lower than a frozen treat, " Harry deadpanned, right eyebrow beginning to twitch in annoyance as he continued to scan the crowd. "I feel so loved."

She took the spoon out of her mouth and jabbed it in his direction, as if it were a spear or some other pointy object. "You got the attention of an Incarnate, boy," she began seriously. "Wars have been fought over that, the most recent about 45 years ago." Harry's green eyes found her dull pale blue ones as his bracelet, hidden underneath long sleeves, warmed. A small smile flitted over his face.

"I won't take you for granted, Thana," the boy whispered and she gave an imperious nod before ruining the moment by shoveling more ice cream into her mouth. Harry rolled his eyes and turned back to surveillance when he caught sight of blond hair. He sat up ramrod straight, surprised before hopping out of his chair. "Thana, finish that quickly, I see Malfoy!"

She waved him off. "Yeah, yeah, go on ahead."

He didn't need to be told twice, making his way over to that flash of yellow but as he got closer there were more and more glimpses of red. _Weasleys,_ he thought with some distaste. He was sure they weren't bad people but the twins and that boy Ron didn't make good first impressions on the train and just made worse ones during the school year when they bothered to acknowledge his existence.

Pushing in between some people, he came upon the scene of a fist fight. A blond, aristocratic looking man with a cane was trading blows with a heavier set, balding red headed man wearing glasses. Draco was nearby, his face devoid of its usual arrogant smirk as the red headed boys Fred, George and Ron cheered their father on. Without thinking about it, Harry cupped his hands in front of his mouth.

"Go Mr. Malfoy!"

Both Draco and the man he assumed to be his father, jerked in surprise which let the balding man get a good shot in with a ...port-a-potty? A woman ran up to help the blonde man off the ground, white-blonde hair and blue eyes, he almost thought it to be Pal for a moment but when he got a good look at her face, he relaxed. He wasn't sure what he would have done if it had been Pal, but it was likely something that began with Crucio. That woman grated on his nerves like no one else, just her attitude rubbed him the wrong way.

Her tendency to call him a 'thing' didn't help.

"Potter!" Draco was jogging up, an embarrassed flush on his face. Most likely from the fact that Harry had seen his father be knocked on his ass by a toilet seat. "I didn't see you arrive..."

"Was eating ice cream with my cousin," he said by way of explanation. "Too many people are in the bookstore." The dark scowl that crossed Draco's face made Harry smile.

_--Lemme guess, Lockhart's a female heart throb but the scum of the earth to males--_

_Seems like it, now that I think about it, the men didn't look very happy._

"It won't be long till they get no more and no less than what they deserve, " Malfoy Senior was ranting as he approached with his wife, still wiping dirt off his tailored robes. "A disgrace is what they are..." he trailed off to appraise Harry, who unconsciously tightened his stance and squared his shoulders. After a moment, Harry became uncomfortably aware of the half mohawk he was sporting since he didn't bother to cut it over the summer. _Not a pureblood haircut,_ was all he could think as the elder Malfoy's silvery blue eyes bored into him. _Shit._

The man suddenly stuck out a hand. "Harry Potter, I presume?"

He shook it, making sure his grip was firm but not too pressuring. "Mr. Malfoy?"

After a short nod, the man waved a nonchalant hand at the woman beside him who was watching with these rather cold blue eyes. "My wife, Narcissa." She held out her hand and Harry grasped it, preparing to kiss it like he should, but as soon as their hands touched, a little lightning shock cracked in the air. Neither Draco nor his father gave any indication of having seen the light blue spark, but Narcissa dropped her hand as if he was some horrid monster.

_--Oi, how rude!--_

A little hurt and confused, he just pasted a polite smile on his face.

"We are looking forwards to your visit at Yule's, but I'm afraid we're short on time right now." As Draco gave him an apologetic glance, Harry simply nodded.

"I understand."

He watched them leave, wondering if his father James would be something like Malfoy senior, being a pureblood but then decided it was unlikely. The Malfoys wouldn't be caught dead marrying a muggleborn. Sighing a bit, he turned and nearly jumped out of his skin when he saw Thana right behind him, brilliant blue eyes tracking the departing blonds.

"Well, well, well..." she mused throatily. "That's interesting..."

"What was-...that spark?"

"She's quite a bit more fragile than you but in the end, I suppose that doesn't matter."

Harry scowled at the non-answer. "What are you talking about!"

Thana smirked, blue eyes flashing gold. "Narcissa...Malfoy? She's a Chosen."

* * *

Ginny was absolutely mortified, running along the street back towards the Leaky Cauldron, trying not to remember the accusing glares from her brothers. She had been surprised when Mr. Malfoy had patted her on the head, that's why she didn't pull away. That's all!

Busily trying to convince herself that there was nothing wrong with her, while at the same time unwilling to believe that there was something wrong with her brothers, she wasn't watching where she was going. She ran into someone, hard, hard enough to knock them both to the ground and Ginny's tattered books scattered all over the street.

"Oh! I'm so sorry..." the girl began to babble but was stopped by a hand.

The woman she had run into was a pretty and kind looking one, white-blond hair and stormy blue eyes with a smattering of freckles across the bridge of her nose. She was wearing rather elaborate white and sky blue robes that the girl was horrified to see pick up dirt as the woman began picking up nearby books.

"I wasn't watching where I was going either," the stranger admitted easily in a soft tone, smiling faintly. "So we are even." Her hand landed on a black and roughed up looking book and hovered there for a second.

"Um, that's not mine..." Ginny said quietly. It wasn't. She didn't recognize it.

The woman gave her a patient look. "Are you sure? It fell with the others..." Ginny took it from her anyway, intent on dumping it off somewhere or seeing if the clerk at Flourish and Botts was missing a book. Her fingers folded around it and she almost gasped as a flood of soothing warmth ran down her arms.

"Wha-what is...?"

"A special book," the woman said gently as Ginny's warm brown eyes, flashed silver. "Are your parent's not waiting for you?"

With a panicked squeal, Ginny curtsied awkwardly with her arms full, and took off running again.

Once she was sure the girl was not going to look back, the woman began to change. Her freckles disappeared, her face sharpened into more elegant features and her eyes lightened to a vibrant electric blue. "You poor thing," she whispered, nodding to a patch of empty space. "I'm so sorry."

* * *

Harry was so very glad to be home but as soon as he saw the sword sticking up from the lawn, his good mood took a dive. He stalked over, grinding his teeth, and gave it a good, swift kick.

_Clang!_

And began hopping around on one foot in pain while Thana laughed at him.

* * *

Surprise, surprise, Draco's mom is a Chosen...but of who? Review!


	3. To Care Or?

_**I encourage reviews of any type. **_

**Harry Potter and Death's Incarnate**

_"I am truly sorry to say that Madness and Insanity are two seperate and quite different things. Madness is a frame of mind, yes? The inability to distinguish between fact and fiction, reality and not, however temporary, however permanent. It descends like an illness, a voice when no one is speaking here, the flash of a strange colour out the corner of your eye when searching for something else, black usually, white sometimes too. A fierce denial of what should be obvious, fanaticism is common. The body declines as the mind does; hot flashes, sudden urges of strong emotions such as anger or hatred, an invading tiredness, single minded focus, double vision, aches and pains of a soul dying. Impossible to cure, yes? Unlike psychological trauma, Madness is a rot that pervades the very essence of being. Now Insanity, that my dear friend, is simply knowing truths that no one else will ever understand. More often than not, you can't tell, they just seem a little...odd. Strange, unusual but nothing particularly alarming. Madness is dangerous, Insanity is having too much knowledge, to be simple. Easy enough to see the difference, yes? But you...no, you will always be something that I will never quite be able to identify...like a soul split in two." -Incarnate of Insanity, Ewah_

* * *

A boy of twelve, with an odd haircut that made him look as if he was growing a mohawk and emerald eyes, was staring at the ceiling of his bedroom, counting the number of times he had died so far and having a devil of a time trying to fall asleep. Between the whispering snores that were echoing from the back of his head and his rebellious mind that kept drifting back to a certain conversation, dream land was staying far away from Harry Potter.

_What's a Chosen?_ Harry grimaced, turning over in bed as he tried to ignore his own mental voice.

_Hmm? Oh, our heirs in a way. Next in line when we decide to croak, _Thana's casual tone answered. He could almost see her stretching like a cat before flopping onto the plush sofa. _Whenever an Incarnate gets tired of being immortal._

_So, you're like gods, huh?_ With a groan Harry rolled the other way, squeezing his eyes shut and praying for sleep.

_You know, I never really thought about it. Mortals have all sorts of names for us, but we really just...are._

_Am I a Chosen?_ Harry's fists balled around the edges of his sheets. _Shut up!_ he screamed in his mind, at the frozen mental picture of a boy and an impossible woman casually discussing one of the secrets of the universe. _Just shut up!_ The pause button came undone and the image continued to play.

_If you are, you're not mine. I highly doubt it, my claim on you is rather obvious. _Both the Harry in the memory and the one in bed began to finger their braclet. _Besides, you're too...free for that._

_Free? _Ripping his hand away from his forewarm, Harry slammed his pillow over his head and yelled into it.

_Chosens are still mortal, they just have a limited access to the universal force or aspect they are going to inherit. They are also Bound. An Incarnate is responsible for teaching them what they need to know about immortality business and in turn, the Chosen must follow all orders given by their mentor. _Harry could see his own uncomprehending expression and Thana's unconcerned shrug. _With a word, we can make them our slaves._

_Who would do that!_ Cue horror.

_Weaver, if the she ever got around to retiring, Justice would ironically enough,_ Thana in his memory began to tap her chin as she listed. _Plague, most definitely, Desire might, Truth doesn't need to since they're all copies anyway...oh, _a cruel smirk. _Me._

_Why? _Harry turned onto his face, pillow still held against his head as he sighed into the mattress.

_Would make things easier, no panicing since I said so, no dealing with mortal anxieties, no babysitting...once they've learned and their Incarnate moved on, they're themselves again. _At the mutinious look on his face, she had given him a cold look. _They have to agree before hand, its not like we strip free will just because._

_Why didn't you make me one?_ Harry groaned again at how pathetic he had sounded. How vulnerable.

_I was going to but things came up, _was the flippant response.

_What things?_

_You brought a girl back to life._ Even though it had happened hours ago, Harry still flinched at the memory of her words. _And besides, _she had reached out and brushed her hand over his scar. When he thought about it, his face still tingled. _There are certain things I can't order someone to give... _Harry's muscles relaxed as he lay there, acknowledging that the uncomfortable part of his recollections was over. _Alright, enough about this, what did you think of Lockhart?_

_Blond ponce...git, retarded and probably gay._

_Ouch, _an exaggerated wince. _You're just mad he wanted to take a picture with you!_

_And held up the bloody line, shouting loud enough to wake the dead...I thought he was going to propose to you or something when he found out about my "cousin!"_

_What...jealous? _Thana teasing voice rang through his head and he snorted along with the memory.

_You wouldn't have said yes anyway._

_Ah!_ she had cried out dramatically but now that he was watching it over, even though her mischevious expression didn't change, he could see that all traces of any real emotion had been carefully wiped from her face. _Boy...you know me too well._

Harry turned onto his back, pillow under his head where it belonged, staring up at the ceiling again. _She wants something from me,_ was the thought that had started this whole insomnia mess. _But what? Why won't she tell me?_

There was the sound of a door opening somewhere on the floor below him. He tensed, but when he heard the footsteps he let out a small sigh of relief. They weren't too quiet and they weren't loud either, the footsteps of someone that had nothing to hide even though they were walking around at something like two in the morning.

Thana's footsteps.

_Thana's arrogant, _he noted to himself. _Has liked ice cream ever since she stole my cone this summer, eyes change color and mood changes with it, swears alot when she's annoyed, lazy, _here he frowned, not liking the direction the list was going to take. _Deceptive, a good impersonator, doesn't like to verbally admit affection, secretive, mysterious, has a mean streak, slightly cruel sense of humour..._

_Ah! _Thana's last line rebounded in Harry's head. _Boy...you know me too well._

"No," he whispered as his eyelids became heavy. "I don't know you at all."

* * *

_What do you want from me?_

* * *

"Ah, I didn't expect to see you here," Ollivander, wand crafter, said cautiously, eyeing the black spectre that was floating in the doorway to his shop. "At least, not so soon after the last time."

"I need a wand scan," a smooth, alto voice spoke from the dark cloud as it produced an eleven inch holly wand. He recognized it, it had been only a year after he sold it after all and he never forgot a sale. Harry Potter's wand, the brother to Tom Riddle's. He took it, careful not to touch his most unusal customer.

"May I ask what for?"

"You can ask." It said impishly. He was tempted to think it female, but as always, he had to fight the inclination. Attaching genders to such a being would only spell trouble in the future, much the same way as naming an animal would affect the emotions. It kept him distant.

Wand scanning was not a difficult ritual, but an uncommon one. No normal wizard ever needed to check the status of their wand, the only thing they worried about was cracks and dents. Physical damage was easier to spot. Ollivander wrapped his magical aura around the stick he held in his hand and slowly worked the core out. After several seconds, the shining orange light of a phoenix feather illuminated his shop.

"What am I looking for?"

The spectre shuddered and for a moment, he worried if the light could hurt it. "Corrosion, holes, rips or tears...anything that would happen if Death was channeled through something that belonged to Life."

He couldn't help the frown. "Harry channeled Death?"

"Four times, I believe."

"Chosen?" he was rather satisfied with the way his voice didn't break or falter on the word. It was a vile thing, and Harry Potter, _Chosen_, would not bode well.

"Nope."

He breathed a sigh of relief and too late realized he might have been offensive. He diverted his worries to the feather, taking in the glow of it and perfectly curved shape. It looked exactly the same as when it was first dropped off by that phoenix. It was quite a feat. Being creatures of perpetual life, just touching Death would have crumbled the feather into ash. Unless...

"The bird is a Born."

He was rewarded with a serpentine hiss. "_Weaver!_ I should have known...never could stop playing games of Fate, could she?"

Ollivander tried to pretend that he wasn't there but somewhere else and it didn't work. Harry Potter, victim of a prophecy was he? He didn't need this in the middle of the night when he should be in bed, dreaming about a life long past accomplishing the impossible. "Were you wise to get involved in this?"

"No, apparently." It muttered, twittering about nervously. "Geez, this is going to make things difficult, its like the universe is out to stop me."

He let go of his magical aura and watched blankly as the feather disappeared back into the wood, biting back all the comments and snarky replies he could have made. Running his shop gave him experience at keeping his thoughts in. He handed the wand back and nodded politely. "I'm sorry?" he offered.

The spectre grumbled. "Yeah, yeah, no pity. I'll see if I can tell Eternity 'hi' for ya, Burwright."

Before he could open his mouth to correct it, his name was Ollivander now, it was gone. Vanished as if it had never been there.

But of course, he knew better.

* * *

It was a very odd feeling, standing on Platform 9 and 3/4 again, ready to take off for another year at Hogwarts. A place that had killed him at least twice.

Very odd feeling.

"Something bad is going to happen..." Harry sing-songed, tilting his head to the side as he watched children his age, younger and older, board the red Hogwarts Express train. He was dressed in, what he considered to be, his trademark robes of black with silver swirling decorations on his shoulder, complete with silver sickle clasp, and clutching his black trunk.

"Pal is out for blood," Thana ranted, throwing her arms up in exasperation. "Of course something bad is going to happen, idiot!"

"Aww, you sound like you actually care about me!" Harry meant it as a tease, but Thana froze with a look of panic and fear on her face. "Thana? Thana, I'm so-"

She was gone.

It was only the curious glances from surrounding wizards and witches, wondering how the "witch" apparated without a sound no doubt, that kept him from swearing out loud to himself.

_--I must say...that was brilliant--_

_I know, damn it! I know. Bloody hell...this year is going to suck._ Absently he patted the sword that hung from his side. It was invisible to everyone who didn't have Incarnate connections, Thana said so and no one had noticed it yet, and weighed next to nothing. The way it bounced on his thigh was a bit distracting though, the petal like crossguard a bit too large to be comfortable.

_--Are we rating school years on our relationship with Thana already?--_

_Wha-no! Not like that, I just mean, i-i-it just doesn't seem like a good omen, alright!_

_--Aha!--_ the whisper exclaimed far too smugly for something that claimed to be himself. _--You did not deny that we do have a relationship!--_

_Shut up._

--_But--_

_I'm serious._

His head now silent, Harry began to march towards the train. It was an uneventful walk, mostly. He had made a large circle around a family of red heads and none but one seemed to notice him. The youngest it looked like, a girl with firey red hair and freckles and the coldest pair of brown eyes he had ever seen. He didn't think it possible for chocolate to look so frosted over.

And she was staring at him, tattered, black book clutched to her chest and completely silent while her family bustled about.

It was creepy.

"Harry!" He turned away from the odd girl quickly.

"Her-" It was like a bell was going off in his mind, a gong as something clicked. Looking at her, he _knew _that her changes were done. It wasn't something he could explain, information just popped into his head.

The girl smiled a bit self consciously for no reason that he could see. "I had to tell my parent's that it's magical puberty, they don't know any better so it should hold." She looked him over and smiled a bit wider. "Went someplace warm?"

"Huh?" he blurted out intelligently. Hermione was wearing proper wizarding robes of a pale blue and looking perfectly at home in it. Her eyes which had been hazel last year had lightened even further to an amber color and her hair was now far more silverly-blonde than it was brown with fully developed ringlets framing her face. Her cheekbones had shifted upwards and her fingers looked more in tune to playing an instrument than holding books.

He was glad that her voice had remained the same otherwise he would have had her pegged as another pureblood witch, or maybe a Veela halfbreed with that hair colour.

"Warm," she was repeating. "You seem a bit more tan, or maybe your hair is lighter?"

Harry frowned, running a hand through his top tuft of hair. "Been in Sweden, stayed inside most of the time...maybe it's the lighting?"

"Well, lets look for a compartment then."

Sitting with his kind of, sort of, friend made the whole thing seem a bit more normal. She was still Hermione and even though he had an invisible sword and a chance of permanent death hanging over his head, he was able to put it aside for a little good natured mocking of Lockhart. About a minute before the Express was due to leave, Malfoy came puffing in.

"What took you so long?" Harry asked, truly curious.

The blond just flopped into a seat and stole one of Harry's Chocolate Frogs. "Stupid barrier malfunctioned or something, wouldn't let anyone in for a while."

Hermione got that look on her face, the one that said she was about to go on a rant about how what was just mentioned was unlikely, but seemed to swallow her words. "At least you got through in time..."

Malfoy snorted. "Father just Side-Long Apparated me, don't know about the others if they made it at all. Was kind of preoccupied..." The blond had grown a bit over the summer, his hair a bit longer than it was the last time Harry saw him but was familiar enough. At that point, the boy seemed to realize that Hermione had changed and did a double take.

"I knew it!" he crowed and extended a hand. "No one can mistake you for a mudblood now!"

Smiling easier than Harry thought she should, she took the offered hand. "It's too bad I argued for Gryffindor because I thought I was muggleborn..."

Malfoy dropped her hand suddenly, as if just remembering that she was a 'Golden Girl' but smiled a bit to remove the sting. "A pity..."

"Alright, alright..." Harry pulled out a stack of cards and the first of his new stash of Dweni pies (he still didn't know what was in them, slipped his mind). "Whose up for Exploding Snap?"

* * *

Seeing those skeletal horses again had been interesting and once again, he couldn't see them with his glasses on, as if the lenses blocked them from his sight. Hermione saw the air shimmering, something that sent Hagrid muttering while Malfoy couldn't see anything at all. The carriage ride didn't make much sense to Harry, as it took a scenic route, but he grinned and bore the uncomfortable seating.

Once out of the carriage however...

"It's cold..." Hermione wrapped her arms around herself as Harry stared at the castle.

It no longer felt comforting, warm, or friendly. It was now just wood and stone, cold stone and he felt a deep sadness for reasons he couldn't explain. Malfoy didn't seem to feel anything different, looking at the two lagging behind as if they were crazy but Harry knew he wasn't imagining it.

It felt...dead. That was the word, dead.

_"Something bad is going to happen..." _Harry heard his own voice, singing on the wind.

* * *

She was standing there, in front of the broken remains of a giant mirror, staring at something that would no longer appear. She didn't react at all as another woman, with dark red hair, hugged her from behind and laid her chin on a shoulder.

"I don't know why I acted that way," she was whispering. "I just had to get away...is it wrong?"

"Hmm?" A smoky voice hummed, nibbling gently on an ear.

"Is it wrong to care about him, how he feels?"

Desire pulled away and lifted her right arm, pressed their hands together, peering intently at the way the fingers lined up, the startling contrast between her own near black skin color and Thanatos' pale one. A slow smile was spreading across her face as she addressed Thanatos' concern.

"For you? Wrong? Of course it is."

* * *

Hmmm, not much to say with this one except for...sorry for the delay!

Oh, almost forgot: Can you guys tell me which way you prefer? This one or HPaDI's more focused and yet disjointed style of story telling?


	4. The Second Exhale

_**I encourage reviews of any type.**_

**A/N: Just a heads up, yes there will be a seperate book for each 'year.' It's most likely to end at the sixth book though...the Deus ex Machina thingy with DH would not work well with this series at all. (and I hate the book, killing the Dark Lord off with a first year spell and all but that's irrelevant...really). **

**Harry Potter and the Breath of Life**

_"He was a brilliant man, absolutely brilliant. I would have been honoured to be his Headmaster when he attended, and I fancy myself being able to change his poor choices. He contributed so much to the Wizarding folk, our current knowledge of Dementors, our medicines, the elusive Liberito Maximus spell. I hear he was a Ravenclaw, makes sense if you ask me. What doesn't make sense is what would cause a man to snap like that, to just abandon his country! No one would have ever imagined him a madman, his research with Flamel notwithstanding, searching for immortality. Thaddeus had us all fooled and I can say with absolute certainty that I'm glad he's locked away in Azkaban. He might not have warranted the Kiss but the universe is not a toy!" -Armando Dippet, Headmaster of Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry_

* * *

"There's no reason to forbid the Forest this time, Albus," Minerva McGonnagall stated thickly, throwing leaves of parchment onto his deak only to scatter to the floor. "There's nothing there! The lake is the same, no Grindylows, no merpeople, no squid, nothing!" With a heavy sigh, the woman slumped into one of the over stuffed chairs that littered his office. "I don't understand what has happened..."

Albus Dumbledore just stared at his wand blankly. The year hadn't even officially started yet and it was already falling to pieces. The Forbidden Forest was discovered by Hagrid to be devoid of all creatures except the Thestrals. No Acromantula, no centaurs, no Bowtruckles...it was as if someone had packed up all of the magical creatures and carried them off over night. Filius Flitwick had been the one to discover the absence of any sign of life from the lake and Severus had noted that the Whomping Willow was completely still, like an ordinary tree.

And worse of all, was Hogwarts herself. Or itself now.

There were no murmurs from the lingering intelligence in the castle wards, no warmth. The paintings had all ceased to function, the ghosts had gone. At the very least the moving staircases and vanishing doors had remained but now the movement felt mechanical rather than cheerfully random. There was no welcoming pulses of magic from the castle, the former Headmasters were trapped into silence within their portraits and Fawkes...

He choked back a sob.

Minerva must have heard it anyway for she took her hand away from her face to give him a pitying look. "He'll make it through, Albus. He has to."

He simply nodded, mind elsewhere. He hadn't believed it to be a literal mention, when he had found it in the records only available to the Headmaster. Records comparing the castle to that of a living, breathing thing. That strange room that reacted to the desires of students, things unexplained about the castle were chalked up to one item.

The Heart of Hogwarts.

He had assumed that the Founders had simply put some complex warding into motion, much like they did with the Sorting Hat and had disregarded all mentions of the fifth, a being of light, in its creation. Was he being foolish?

_Stay Out Mortal!_ Ever since that day, that ringing yell had stayed with him. Dumbledore had never questioned himself so much, not even during the wars he'd lived through, than he did after that failed attempt at Legilimency.

Overnight.

Merlin, this had all happened overnight, it could only be a greater being. _Incarnate._

The only conclusion Dumbledore could come up with was this: Harry was playing with some dangerous fire and he would have to be watched. Was it the _'power the Dark Lord knows not'_ or something else entirely? A sudden frightening thought struck him. If Harry really did gain the attention of the Greater Beings, did the prophecy even affect him anymore?

A moment later, he discarded the thought. Nonsense, it had to.

It had to.

Overnight...Hogwarts had died.

"Albus." He looked up, too troubled to put a twinkle in his eyes. "It's time for the Welcoming Feast." And with a groan, he stood up.

He was feeling so very, very old and yet at the same time, like an infant being dangled over the edge of a ravine, with sharpened stakes at the bottom. If he wiggled too much, Fate might just decide to let him fall.

* * *

It was a dark and damp place, with water dripping freely down the walls to pool into dark puddles on the ground. The air was heavy with a musk of mildew and long decayed bodies, bones littered the floor with not one complete skeleton in sight. A giant statue of an ugly, wild looking man dominated the vision while numerous snake motifs adorned the walls. An unnatural chill in the air was slowly covering several large pipes in the room with a black frost and every so often, a vaguely human shaped shimmer in the air would flit about.

This was the Chamber of Secrets.

And while Salazar Slytherin may have built the place, this Dead Zone belonged to the Incarnate of Death.

"As charming as ever," someone murmured, voice echoing off the stone walls. "I haven't been here in half of forever, it seems."

"What would you have me do?" Another spoke clearly, mechanically as if their mind was detached from their mouth, uncaring of what was being said. Unusual, for someone so young sounding.

"A warning, I think..." There was a rustle of fabric as the speaker shrugged. "Kill something, just don't touch Potter."

* * *

"And how was your summer, Potter?"

Harry glanced over at Zabini and gave the boy a wry smile. "Nothing exciting happened other than getting to know my only relative worth anything." There were some nods from the ones who "knew" where Harry went at Christmas last year but in reality he had been talking about Constanze's portrait. Just about every other day, he had gone to talk to her, getting to know the Ergussons, why they fell out of grace and more about his father.

They hadn't been happy conversations.

James had been a blockhead, an impulsive Gryffindor to the bone. Not wanting to hurt any feelings, he waited until after asking Lily to marry him to break the news to Constanze and formally break off the engagement...with a letter. Constanze married someone else and was unfortunately killed by her new husband but not before she got the bastard who offed her, end of story.

There had been times he wished he could bring his parents back to life if only to give his father a good kick in the balls for being such a git. A sudden, bizarre thought popped into his mind: Could you get divorced post-humously?

There was mental snickering.

"Oh!" He smacked his open palm with a fist. "And there was this really weird house elf that tried to make me withdraw from Hogwarts."

Malfoy did a double take. "What!?"

Harry raised an eyebrow as he took a bite of his food. "It's true, ugliest thing I've seen in my life and it kept going on how I must not go because _'bad things be happening.'_" He raised his voice at the end in an approximation of Dobby's squeal.

"What kind of bad things?"

Harry opened his mouth in Parkinson's direction and then closed it, blushing. "I don't know actually, he never said..." --_Although we have a pretty good idea...--_

Further conversation was cut off by the arrival of Dumbledore who had been strangely absent for a good portion of the Welcoming Feast. Well, all of it actually, a realization that raised Harry's eyebrows again. The old man looked tired and worn, as if the flouresent blue and purple robes he was wearing weighed several hundred stones. Even his pointy hat was not so pointy as the top was bent over pathetically and half-moon glasses slightly lopsided.

"Why does the Headmaster look as if he's been run over by a giant?" Greengrass' question was a good one and no one on the Slytherin table had an answer. In spite of himself, Harry snuck a glance over to the Gryffindor table to see how Hermione was taking the sight of her authority figure looking so vulnerable. And ,to his astonishment, she didn't even notice, calmly reading a book instead. As she looked up, Harry turned back to his plate , mind whiring.

_What the fuck? Hermione adores Dumbledore!_

_--Maybe she found a new role model over the summer?--_

_Like who?_

_--What book is she reading?--_

Harry swept his gaze over the Gryffindor table nonchalantly. _No good, can't see it. _Come to think of it, this wasn't the only thing that had changed. Hermione used to just barely tolerate Draco, tensing her jaw and forcing herself to keep quiet every time he used the word 'mudblood.' But on the train...nothing of the sort had happened, like they were one happy trio. _I need answers._

"Welcome students," Dumbledore's weary rumble washed over all of them. "To another year, or your first, at Hogwarts. This year I am sorry to say that the Forbidden Forest...is no longer forbidden." Students blinked, especially the older ones. The befuddled looks on their faces giving their thoughts away. Was this a joke? "I would advise caution but many of the Forest's dangers have been removed. The list of contraband items has grown, see Filch for the entire list." And he sat down. The professors all had strained expressions of false cheer on their faces and it was making everyone just a little nervous.

* * *

_A dark flash of something moving swiftly...a harsh whisper in a voice he recognized..."Kill something!"_

* * *

Harry reeled in his seat as his scar began to ache, clutching the edge of the table with white knuckles. _Was that Thana?_

_--I'm...not sure...--_

The feeling of wrongness in the castle seemed to increase with the sudden silence in the Great Hall. Which was why when Percy Weasley, pompous ass, burst into the Great Hall screaming, everyone jumped nearly a foot out of their skin. The professors and Dumbledore leapt to their feet but Harry, confusing vision still on his mind, bolted in the direction the red head had come from. Some people were yelling for him to come back but his inner Gryffindor was urging him onwards. He couldn't die, not unless he drew the sword slapping against his back invisibly, so what did he have to worry about?

_--...besides pain...--_ his whisper reminded in a strangely subdued voice. Harry just winced, remembering Voldemort's Crucio from last year.

An anguished wail echoed throughout the halls and Harry took a sharp left towards it and came upon Filch and Mrs. Norris.

Or what he thought was Mrs. Norris.

It was kind of hard to tell.

Most of it was just a red mass of torn flesh with the cream coloured rib cage arcing out of it gracefully. Someone had taken the time and effort to carefully pluck the half-Kneazle's eyes out and imbed them in the heart like a macabre little face staring wide eyed out into the world. The bones were arranged in the perfect image of a broken heart, valentine style and on the wall, in blood lettering was a short note: _There is always room for improvement._

And it was signed with the crimson picture of a sickle.

Harry couldn't think as he stood there, just staring at that symbol in numbing horror.

Filch saw him there and his eyes immediately traveled to Harry's scar. "You!" The old squib screeched with a cigar-stained voice, trembling finger pointing. "You did this! You monster!"

The boy snapped out of it, turned with a cold look on his face. He would never take well to being blamed for things that weren't his fault.

_Monster,_ his mind whispered and he remembered being unable to move as Hermione died.

_Freak, _it whispered again and he remembered looks of fear, just when he finally did what was asked of him.

That almost forgotten anger welled up violently. "Then why the fuck would I come back, squib?" he nearly snarled. "Keep that finger to yourself before I tear it off!"

A hand landed on Harry's shoulder and he very nearly yanked it off. "Harry..." It was Hermione. "Calm down. He's just scared and grieving." The girl kept repeating her words in his ear and slowly, bit by bit, he relaxed but wasn't yet ready to feel regret for what he said. Snorting, he turned his back on the caretaker and stopped dead at the sight of that red headed girl from the train station. She was standing further down the hallway, still clutching that book tightly and still staring at him.

A weak guttering of his anger sent him a step forward. "Stop staring at me!"

The strange girl's eyes flickered over to an empty patch of space and then back to him as she nodded slowly. "I'm sorry, Harry Potter." And then she walked away with Harry's green eyes trying to bore a hole into her head. Sighing, he tilted his head and was vaguely aware of Draco's arrival and Hermione's low explanation of the scene.

_This year is going to suck, really, really bad. _He thought bitterly.

_--Tell us about it--_

Attending Hogwarts suddenly didn't seem like such a good idea, after all.

* * *

She watched in thinly veiled amusement as a wispy, blonde girl with large grey-blue eyes and a vacant smile on her face approached Harry, who just blinked up at her Ravenclaw robes. They were in the library, him having insisted on looking up any and all references to sickles.

"You can see them, can't you?" She asked him with an equally vacant voice. "Of course, they're hiding away from the Ausprites in the castle right now."

The poor boy just blinked again. "Pardon?"

The strange girl stepped closer and Hermione bit the end of her quill, trying not to laugh. He would know if she did. With a swift motion, the girl stole Harry's glasses right off his nose and leaned in so close that they were almost kissing. His face blushed in an interesting way, literally flushing from neck up. "What-what the bloody hell are you doing!?"

The girl just smiled, having found what she was looking for in his eyes, and handed his glasses back. "There, there, it's nothing to be ashamed of. We might even be able to go Snorkack hunting together sometime. Oh, I almost forgot my name."

Harry looked like he was about to fall over out of his chair. She was still quite close, now that Hermione took notice of it. The green eyed boy was obviously feeling off-kilter but he wasn't pushing the blonde away and that made Hermione's chest tighten with disappointment.

"You mean, forgot to tell me your name?"

"Hm?" The grey-blue eyes refocused momentarily. "Oh, no, I meant forget it. I'm Luna Lovegood, by the way, Harry Potter."

"Um...hi?"

Luna smiled wider and lifted her eyes to the boy's scar. "Good bye." After she was gone, Harry turned to Hermione with a perplexed look on his face.

"Did you get any of that?"

She couldn't help herself, she laughed at him. He pouted childishly and turned back to the book, muttering about 'bloody barmy witches' as he did so. Hermione felt a small pang, in times like this she wished she had been sorted into Slytherin or was able to be resorted. Summer had been a time for her to think about the first chapter of her abnormal life and watching her parents walk on eggshells around her after that Christmas...She had friends now that had no problem with her study habits. They liked Hermione for what made her Hermione (mostly) unlike her own House.

Dying was the best thing to have happened to her.

And she had her master, Harry, to thank for it.

* * *

Questions, questions, questions...what's going on? Well, I know, but I'd like to hear what you think. And is it Snorkrack or Snorkack?


	5. Ripples in Time

**_I encourage reviews of any type._**

**Harry Potter and the Breath of Life**

_"Zones: Locations on the mortal plain that have been claimed or influenced by the Incarnates, much in the same way that their Realms are Claimed. Unlike with the hypothetical Realms, only the first level Incarnates have been known to interact with the mortal world with some regularity. Desire Wells are rooms or objects that reflect the desires of the person it is targeting, the most well known Desire Well is the Mirror of Erised. No one knows where it came from or who made it but it reflects the Heart's Desire in its surface. Life Springs are usually locations of startling vitality, ex. Amazon Forest in South America and are mainly passive. Dead Zones, rooms, objects or creatures that attract dark and necromantic energies, the most common Dead Zones being my current fascination: Dementors." - Notes penned by Orion Nigellus Black_

* * *

The Noble and Ancient House of Black was an old pureblood family, powerful politically and financially (which incidently, was another way of saying politically) and were everything other pureblood families, the ones that weren't blood-traitors that is, aspired to be. But despite their efforts, their teachings, their money, their strength, they were little more than human and had no inkling of the vast powers that lay out of their reach. And they might have never known, had it not been for a trio of sisters.

Andromeda had found them first, hidden away among the oldest books of the Black Library despite the fact that they were forbidden to even look at those manuscripts. The russet haired middle sibling had changed a little after she found it and fascinated her older sister Bellatrix and the baby Narcissa with tales of the universe, of the Realms and the Greater Beings of light and darkness as if they were fantasy stories. There was more to magic than what they were being taught, they learned. Did they know that basalisk eyes were infused with the power of Death? That's why they can kill with just a glance! And the obligatory "Yeah, right, it's just magic" from Bella and "Wow!" from the little blond Cissy. Every night, it became a ritual of sorts between the two youngest, to keep them together after Hogwarts took Bella away. And then Narcissa read them alone.

Fairy tales were woven from the diaries, the experiments Andy found. She read more, snuck out more parchment and passed the knowledge on through carefully enscripted letters. Their world grew through the years. Andy had tried to bring their rebellious cousin Sirius into the circle but the brash boy had rejected it, unwilling to believe that Fate and such crap existed. He had authority issues, the girls moved on and cut him out.

Orion Nigellus Black, his name became some kind of code as they continued to grow into adult women. Their little secret born from the forbidden books of the library and it encouraged all three sisters to try their hand at Runes, Orion's area of expertise, to see if they could find more. It was harmless, mostly, and even though they read it, it never really occured to them that the Greater Beings of their imagination actually existed.

And then Andromeda ran off to marry the muggleborn Ted Tonks, was blotted from the family registry and Narcissa Black was approached by a figure clothed all in black with a proposal.

The knowledge she wanted. The power she desired. Immortality, holding a portion of the universe in her hand in exchange for a brief period in captivity.

She was a Black and so took the offer.

But now, nearly thirteen years later, she was beginning to regret it.

Brief, in the view point of an immortal, was not very brief at all. She was grateful that being a Chosen gave her limited immortality, an agelessness that kept her same looks through the years unable to die of old age and her abilities were far beyond other, mortal witches. But the cons...

She found herself getting increasingly frustrated with the limited thinking of her husband, Lucius over the years. Her son, Draco, at another time she may have loved him, perhaps. She wanted to but a child was so...insignificant compared to what awaited her. It shouldn't have been, but she couldn't help the feeling that she had much, much better things to be doing with the rest of her mortal life.

And then there was the fact that she was tied with invisble strings to the rest of the Incarnates and could be ordered to do anything on a whim. Gilgamesh wouldn't do such a thing, but the fact that he could was still there.

And now...

Narcissa Malfoy nee Black was seated within her greenhouse on the land surrounding the Malfoy Manor, having been staring at her right hand for the past ten minutes. It was her place to think, to reflect and realize just how little she knew.

Harry Potter was a Chosen.

She had seen that spark that flew from their hands when they touched and it had been a blow to her ego, not that she would ever admit it. A _child_ had received notice from an Incarnate, he hadn't even touched puberty yet and was already slated for becoming a god. And if that wasn't unfair, Narcissa didn't know what was. It was a mixed blessing that Draco considered the boy a friend. It was much safer than being his enemy but what a target he could make.

What a target...

The feeling of ice in her veins made her stand up in reverance and incline her head haughtily at the figure that materialized out of thin air. "Gil," she greeted with a fond smile. "It has been a few months."

The man tossed off the hood of his cloak, stamping his feet childishly. "Yes, yes, yes..." Grey hair framed a young square face, with harsh cheekbones and a sharp nose. The most standoffish feature, in Narcissa's mind, was the common brown eyes that almost made him look mortal.

"Well?"

He gave her a sideways look, lips twisting into a grimace. "War is on the horizon. The Gathering went well, I cast Never for us both, but Plague seems rather intent on undermining Death."

"Thanatos will never stand for that." Narcissa stated bluntly, frowning. The golden eyed woman had reminded her of her aunt Walburga, cold, cruel and completely uninterested in anything that did not affect her directly.

"Well, stand she is. She has changed into something much more confused this past decade and, of course, with an agenda of her own."

"She _wants a war?"_ He shrugged and Narcissa spent all of five seconds contemplating the improbability of it all. The rest of the minute of silence was spent saying good bye to England as she knew it. "Andy?"

"Fine, her daughter is aspiring to be a great Auror." Narcissa nodded to herself, biting her lip. Auror...that would be a very dangerous job in a few years. A half-blood the girl may be but she was above being dictated by a tapestry. Andy was family and by extension, her daughter was too. _War is on the horizon..._

"Bella?"

"Insanity might call in a few favors but fine." She relaxed, not knowing that she had tensed in the first place. Convincing her oldest sister to drop the Dark Lord might be difficult but not impossible, but at least she would be sane enough to reason. Merlin, with only five words things had suddenly seemed much more urgent. Plans had to be sped up, some of them outright discarded, her mind began working overtime. _War is on the horizon..._

She dropped her gaze to her right hand again and almost sighed in frustration.

How...quaint.

She looked up at him again. "Is it safe to assume that my studies will have to be accelerated?"

He gave her a short nod and dived right into another lesson as she sat back down. "The most important thing to remember when you are channeling Mystery is that it will actively resist..."

* * *

"Not only annoying," Harry muttered into his pillow as he collapsed onto his bunk bed. "But bloody incompetent too."

This year's Defense Against the Dark Arts class was also looking like a complete bust. The boy had just known that something was wrong when he walked into a classroom decorated with pinks and purple, and pictures of Lockhart everywhere...including a life sized poster fighting off a wolfman. He had ignored it, hoping that it was just the result of having an ego the size of the Atlantic ocean but the man had brought in Cornish pixies, only to lose them in the class because he was idiotic enough to open their cage without being prepared for them to try to, you know, escape!

Draco had been annoyed enough with the man to "accidently" hit him with a _Stupefy,_ freeing them all for an early lunch. Most of the students had high-tailed it to the Great Hall, unwilling to be in the hallways for too long after the Mrs. Norris incident but Harry had sought the silence and Dweni pies of his dorm room.

"Who is?" Harry jerked a bit. Well, it had been silent. He turned his head towards a curious looking Thana, who was sitting on Crabbe's bed, dangling her legs over the side.

"Lockhart," he said shortly. A crimson, dripping sickle was flashing in his mind. He didn't want to talk to her.

Thana seemed to sense it, because she grew still, an uneasiness sneaking across her face. "Harry...?"

"I don't want to talk to you right now," he muttered, turning to face the wall. Because his back was now to her, he missed the hurt expression and her eyes flashing a doeful white.

"O-okay," her words hiccuped. "I'll...just leave then."

Suddenly angry with himself, Harry turned back around. "No, wait a bit..." but the room was empty. "Brilliant, Harry, you've done it again," he said to himself and then realising that he was actually talking out loud, he clamped his lips together and beat his head into his pillow. _I'm such a git._

_--You are--_

With a harsh breath, he sat up. _Well, what am I supposed to think? She thinks a one legged bunny is funny!_

_--We did too, hopping around in circles, the image was hilarious. That's no reason to think her guilty--_

_Not even the sickle, or maybe the fact we heard her say "kill something!?"_

_--We didn't actually hear her, just someone we recognized. It was too short and vague--_ There was a thoughtful silence as Harry brooded. _--You really think she could condemn an animal to that--_

_I don't know what to think._ He leaned over the edge of his bed, pulled out his trunk, grabbed a pie and the mental conversation was over. He really couldn't explain himself, it was just that Thana was hiding so much that he had no real idea of what she was capable of, of who she ordered around. Thana had pulled that trick, writing on the wall before to scare his relatives and now it suddenly wasn't such a happy memory. The writing was similar.

And she had signed with a sickle then too.

He was feeling a little ashamed of her, disgusted too but he supposed he could get over it in time.

As long as he never found a human in that condition.

* * *

"Well, that went well." Thanatos was muttering to herself. Her she was, all fired up, prepared to apologize for once in her immortal life, and he blows her off and it had _hurt _damn it. Tartarus was silent as always, her pacing footsteps on the black sand didn't make a sound. "I wonder what crawled up his ass and died..." She could have stayed, invisible and unheard, probably should have if only to find out why the boy seemed to be on PMS.

Harry always had time for her, always! What did she do now?

"Trouble in paradise?"

With a deep scowl, Thana looked over her shoulder at a far too satisfied looking Hel. "What can you possibly want now?" she sighed, eyes rolling upward as if about to pray for a miracle.

"You seem to be in a bad mood," was all Hel said, deep red eyes never leaving Thana's form.

"Yeah, well seeing you will do that to anybody. Bugger off."

Smiling as if she had been complimented instead of insulted, Hel re-adjusted the paint brush that was stuck behind her ear. "Did you know that his scar is linked to Death?" she asked rhetorically. "Any of us can affect how it works..."

"Look, do I need to throw you out?" Thana demanded, temper fraying. Who cares about the boy's stupid scar? Plague Incarnate tilted her head upwards as her form started to fade back into the Mists.

"No need."

Thana stared at where Hel had been, an icy pit forming in her stomach and feeling a bit off balance. That had been way too easy. She furrowed her eyebrows, running over the one sided conversation again before dimissing the whole thing. "Well, good," she grunted at no one and continued pacing.

* * *

The visions were becoming more frequent.

He wondered if it translated to Always being worried or was it simply a set of events that was meant to happen. The future was a dark looking one, bleak and filled with needless suffering. If he was allowed to See more, would he have tried to change things? Beyond the cryptic warnings he was known for?

Yet another death appeared in his covered sight and he decided that yes, he probably would have tried to meddle with the Weave. Always knew best, he supposed, so he had to wait it out and watch in agonized silence. Palquenta, she had been such a bright light but no thanks to the former Life Incarnate, was suitably heading for ruin. Hel, Kuan Yin, Adi-Mailagu, Thanatos...himself.

_Such pain, in truth, is this how its supposed to be?_

A brief image of Everything clouded his visions as Always lent some support. **_CHANGE IS NEITHER GOOD NOR BAD, TRUTH_**

_Glad to know you aren't worried... _Irritated, Truth shifted around, wishing his Artifact wasn't so uncomfortable. His ass was numb and his legs were dead to the universe_. Perhaps I should look into getting a Chosen...hmmm_...And he stretched his Sight farther into the Future...

* * *

_A young man with sparkling emerald eyes and messy black hair was standing in front of a large pearl, a door opening..._

* * *

Until, quite suddenly, he couldn't see anything but a darkness.

His heart skipped a beat as he stared around his vision of Nothing and No-when.

The universe was gone.

* * *

New Incarnate: Incarnate of Mystery

Gilgamesh was a Mesopatamian hero that was rumored to be two-thirds god because of his impossible deeds. His mother was rumoured to be a half goddess and his father a rogue demon masquerading as King Uruk. He answers to Life Incarnate along with Truth and Justice (unknown). His Realm has not yet been visited.

Hmm, I have mixed feelings about this chapter. On one hand, I thought a little info into Narcissa was important, and on the other wished that I can just make the whole story about Harry, Thana and the people already in the story. The impending epicness is making me nervous I suppose, hope I can write it.


	6. The First Step

_**I encourage reviews of any type.**_

**A/N: Thanks for the support people, but let me tell you, having the stomach flu is NOT fun. Anyway, enough about me...**

**Harry Potter and the Breath of Life**

_"Ah, yes, that is actually a very good question Ms. Skeeter. Now I will not say for sure whether these rumoured Greater Beings have shown any interest in our world, or even exist in anything other than the legends of times far past but you must admit that there are a fair share of mysteries in the magical world that have yet to be explained. The Ministry has an entire 'department' dedicated to such research, do they not? But even so, we must be careful with our discoveries lest they fall into the wrong hands. I am confident in the people's choice but Cornelius' 'zeal' for the unknown does concern me, yes. Such surprises are often Dark." - Interview with Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, Supreme Mugwhump_

* * *

_"Shit!"_

Harry turned his head absently, keeping his eyes firmly on the History of Magic notes Hermione had loaned him. Binns taught the same thing to each first year class so there was little worry of being wrong in his copying but Nott's hissing curse had been interesting enough to split his attention. "What happened this time, Nott?" he asked dully.

"Another bloody parchment cut!" The fox faced boy snapped, waving his injured hand around in the air in an attempt to stop the stinging pain. "Merlin, I bloody _hate_ parchment cuts!"

Harry's lips twitched but he swallowed the guffaw that threatened to break loose. "I'm sure they hate you too." He didn't need to look to know that Nott was glaring at him from his bunk bed. "Besides, they heal quick anyway." He turned his head back to his notes, shrugging and largely unconcerned. It was a bloody **papercut**, it wasn't like the boy was going to keel over any time soon.

The other boy sniffed. "You'd think so, but I got one two days ago and its still bleeding!"

At this Harry turned around fully, frowning at the wire-black hair that adorned the top of Nott's head as his dorm mate struggled with a bandage. _Two days...still bleeding?_ Harry thought. That wasn't right...papercuts were shallow wounds, barely cutting through the top layer of skin and virtually all minor wounds scabbed over in two days. Sure, Nott was pale like practically everyone else in this House but Harry didn't think the boy was sick. He'd heard of it, a muggle disease that resulted in slow healing, but he didn't know if wizards suffered from it.

_--We going to ask?--_

Harry paused, opening his mouth but then closed it, shaking his head. It was kind of...rude and besides, if Nott was sick, Nott would know so. Satisfied with his reasoning, he continued doing his homework, successfully forgetting it.

Well, the boy forgot it, but the voice in his head didn't, just staring out of his lightning-bolt shaped window to the world with a resigned expression on his face.

_--So Life...that's what happened to this place here...--_

* * *

Even though it was faint, very faint, the familiar tingle of magic washing over him was there. The wards vibrated pleasantly as he emerged from the back of his shop, absently blinking his glass eyes to get some moisture on them. Having his eyes open for two hours straight always did leave him feeling a bit out of sorts and more than a little self conscious. Glass eyes weren't unusual, needing two might raise an eyebrow but the reasons why he had them were certainly unique.

It had been his price for cheating.

He almost groaned when he "saw" a hovering spectre of white in his store. Merlin, just coming out of woodwork, weren't they? First Death and now...He straightened his posture and plastered a pleasant expression on his face, waiting for the Greater Being to introduce themselves. It wasn't his miraculous spellwork that allowed his wards to catch something no mortal being could see or hear unless allowed to...this one wanted him to know.

A show of good faith, even indulgence from an Incarnate and it made him nervous.

_Thaddeus Burwright..._ the dulcet tones of something _powerful_ sent Ollivander's nerves tingling and he locked his knees, refusing to kneel. He was immortal too, for Merlin's sake, he had his pride! _We, Fate, have a small task for you._

He tensed. "And that would be?" Fate. Merlin's beard...this was getting interesting. _What have you been up to, Mr. Potter?_ he wondered inwardly. _That would cause such commotion..._

The white cloud pulsed and Ollivander found himself holding a long, single strand of white hair. Ordinary, but his eyes could pick up the residual black mist that clung to it. He was momentarily puzzled, last time he saw Death, it had no hair. What was this then?

_Make a wand, tell no one but Xenophilius Lovegood when the Time comes and wait._Fate said easily in clipped, no-nonsense manner. _It will go a long way towards forgetting your transgression..._it finished slyly and Ollivander coloured with anger.

"I am not a pawn!" he snapped, abandoning his mask of a mysterious old man for a moment as his magic lashed about. "You hold nothing over me anymore, not even the Weave." The spectre pulsed again but remained silent. Ollivander clamped down on his emotions and buried them once more, scolding himself but without any heat to it. Someone had to pop their collective egos. He suspected that even if they acted like they didn't care, being worshipped by mortals had given them swelled heads.

_Well, _he almost smiled fondly. _Most of them. Eternity was always humble..._

"What do you want?" His unwelcome guest said finally, no power plays, no imposing voice, just someone very tired sounding. Still, he just puffed himself up indignantly.

"There is nothing more that I want, thank you very much."

A sigh as the spectre pulsed. "Need I ask Desire personally or will you just tell me?"

There was a five minute silence as Ollivander struggled with himself. To tell or not to tell, what would happen in the long run? Was the lack of insight worth his peace and quiet? In the end he slumped in defeat, clutching the strand of hair. "Never you mind, it shall be done."

Without so much as a 'by your leave' his shop was empty and he grunted.

"Involved again, you fool." There was a heart beat of quiet as he thought it over and then snarled, "And for free this time too!"

* * *

"You really should try out for the Quidditch team, Potter," Malfoy was saying at the table, cutting his steak into carefully measured pieces. The one time Zabini had nudged his arm so that he cut wrong, the blond boy had nearly castrated him. Harry would never have pegged Malfoy for an obsessive compulsive type, but because he couldn't imagine it, teasing him about it was a nice way to pass the time.

"Why bother?" Harry viciously sawwed into his steak and watched in amusement as Malfoy's eyebrow ticked. "It'll cut into study time and Flint's a bastard."

"_It'll cut into study time!_" Zabini mocked in a high pitched voice, a shit-eating grin on his face. "Me thinks a certain Potter was Sorted wrong...raise your hand if you think Potter belongs with the 'claws!" The olive skinned, blue eyed boy raised his hand, cackling and was soon followed by Crabbe and Goyle who most likely had no idea what they were raising their hands for. Greengrass mockingly raised hers at Harry's scowl but Malfoy just raised his eyebrows imperiously.

"Potter," he said calmly. "I forbid you from helping them with potions." Poof! Instant horror-filled faces and all hands went down.

Harry couldn't help but to grin smugly, but the grin died when there was no commentary. _Serves them right! _he could almost imagine that extra voice in his head saying. _Idiots, insulting their source of help? _he heard Thana's voice next, her cruel edge of humour bleeding through her words.

_A crimson, dripping sickle...eyes staring out from the heart...note: Always room for improvement..."Kill something!"_

Quite suddenly, he didn't feel like eating.

"Potter?" He lifted his eyes from his plate and realized that half the table was staring at him. He beat down an embarrassed flush.

"Sorry, what did you say?" Malfoy, Nott and Zabini exchanged glances and Harry felt that anger starting to burn in his stomach again. _A bloody simple question!_ He almost felt suffocated, sitting there and feeling so vulnerable, so clueless. There was a weird surge of something but he stubbornly kept his eyes firmly away from any necks, the psycho comment still strong in his mind.

"Anyway!" Malfoy said loudly. "The team needs a good seeker and you've got the build for it. Not that you'd beat me of course, but maybe reserve..." Harry felt his lip start to curl disdainfully but he schooled his expression over.

"Nah, you take it with no competition Malfoy, I'm not interested." And he wasn't. Flying was nice but he was on a _broom _for crying out loud. There was a sense of freedom that came with flying but reducing it to drills and pressure? He'd rather fly when he wanted and not when he didn't want to or otherwise talk to Tha-

He swallowed hard.

_"You have the power to hurt her...you **will** want to use that power..."_ another memory echoed in an unpleasant reminder of last year. He stood up from the table and flashed the others an uneasy smile. "I...don't feel well."

He made it out into the hallways that lead to the Hospital Wing, humming a jaunty tune when...

* * *

_The sound of grinding stone...a rasping echo...he was watching something dark moving through in undulating movements...emerging to stare with gold eyes..._

* * *

Harry whipped his head around, looking for something he knew was there, he saw it come here! Left, nothing. Right, nothing. He looked behind him in dread...and nearly collapsed in disbelief. It was just Colin, this weird muggleborn kid that made it a habit to follow him around with that stupid camera. It looked like he was still trying to grab a shot. "Creevey, I told you to stop following me around."

The boy didn't move, camera practically glued to his face.

Harry began to get irritated. "Colin!" When he got no answer he stalked forward and grabbed the boy's arm. He frowned, there was something wrong about this. He still wasn't moving, usually he would be stammering and blushing by now, and his arm...

It was hard, like stone.

He tripped over his feet stumbling backwards in horror, landing against the wall painfully. His forehead throbbed with pain.

* * *

_Thana's voice..."You didn't touch Potter, did you, hmm?" A hiss. "Good."_

* * *

Harry reeled, clutching at his scar, eyes blankly staring at the once-living statue. _How could she! Why...how, when did? WHY?_

_--The boy's just petrified, get a hold of yourself!-- _the whisper broke its silence, snapping at him.

He scrambled to his feet, and took off at a dead run back towards the Great Hall, his inner Gryffindor screaming foul! That was definitely Thana's voice, he heard it! _You can't say that wasn't Thana!_

_--As you so wish to believe--_

He couldn't take the time to ponder the cryptic response, running right up to his Head of House and yanking on the man's robes.

"Potter! What the bloody hell is wrong with you!?" the man snarled, barely missing spilling pumpkin juice on himself. Dumbledore's eyes were still tired, but wary as he watched the scene.

"Whatever is the matter?" the old man asked kindly as Severus began to draw his wand, a murderous expression on his face. "You seem to be a bit anxious."

Harry swallowed the _no shit, Sherlock!_ and just pointed towards where he just came from. "Creevey, petrified, there!" McGonnagall was already rising from her seat when Dumbledore frowned at him, the twinkle in his eyes dimming.

"I'm sorry, could you-"

"Creevey, petrified, there!" Was all Harry could get out, thoughts a bit too jumbled for him to sound intelligent. Punctuating his point with another harsh jab of his finger, he gave Snape another tug. He may dislike the man but there was no way he was going to allow him to sit there like nothing was wrong! If it made the greasy bat the more irritated, more points for him!

The professors seemed to get the point, Lockhart taking lead with his reassurances that he knew what he was doing (Harry doubted it) and when Sprout came back to the Great Hall to announce that curfew was being enforced _now_ Harry felt like a small weight was lifted off his shoulders. He'd done his part, let the adults handle the rest.

Malfoy walked up to the Head Table, looking thoughtful. "Potter? What happened?"

"Muggleborn was petrified." He said curtly and took in Malfoy's suddenly apprehensive expression.

"Oh..." Harry just continued to stare at the blond until he fidgeted and coughed. "Not that I knew it was going to happen!" he half-yelled unconvincingly before scurrying back to the other Slytherins as Harry put another "Problem" on his "This year sucks why:" list. So far he had Thana terrorizing the school, the voice in his head being too quiet (it was a weird list item but Harry put it down as a cause for concern anyway), Lockhart is a git, Hermione acting weird and now "Malfoy knows something."

Harry sighed in frustration and almost whimpered.

Was it too much to ask for a normal magical life?

* * *

"Truth, still diligently Seeing, I see." Thanatos said dully as she took in the blind man's rigid seating posture. "You won't be able to stand if you keep this up."

Truth's Realm comprised of a black sky, murky, dark grey bottom that looked like condensed clouds and a huge perfect-circle lake imbedded in the ground, one he was currently sitting on and Thana at the edge of. Technically, each Realm housed three Artifacts but this place was less of a home than it was a gateway. And it irked her sometimes, the gate to Eternity was literally right next door.

"In truth, a little muscle atrophy isn't going to stop me," he joked, shrugging his shoulders and tightening the triangle his hands were making. "If only you could See this..." his voice took on a wondering tone with a hint of mischeviousness as if he was being told a juicy secret.

"I'll pass."

It had been a week since Harry told her to bugger off and to be brutally honest, she felt like shit. Mentally, emotionally and physically, their bond becoming even more parasitic and vicious as the boy grew to unconsciously resent its presence. Hating the boy for its own reasons, Death was not talking to her anymore. She could force it maybe, if she got angry enough but it wasn't worth it. So a universal force was acting like a spoiled brat, she didn't really care. But the link...breaking the bond now might not kill her...but living with it in this condition would.

And a dead Incarnate cannot become Always.

"What can I help you with?"

"I need to see Always." Truth turned his head so fast, she was almost positive he gave himself an injury.

"What!? Why?" Thana allowed herself a moment to bask in the knowledge that she surprised Truth, the only one who didn't need to rely on the now unavailable Weave for answers. It was a nice feeling.

"I need to," she pointed a finger at her head. "_Fix_ this before I mess _everything_ up."

Truth began to look shifty. "You've been working it out fine on your own..."

"I'm pretty sure I made it worse," she said in a casual tone contrary to her words. "Now move or I'll make you."

He opened his mouth but then he jerked in surprise at some unseen thing. "Oho!" he chortled instead, before getting up and almost skipping away from the center of the lake. "Go right on ahead." Thana eyed him suspiciously but approached the exact epicenter. As soon as her foot touched it, the water rippled and she fell through.

Stars, really, that's how Death's troublesome Incarnate would explain Always' throne. Just a picture of Everything that was constantly moving, spinning around. Not what she would have picked but that is neither here nor there.

"I know you are in here," Thana said moodily.

**_I AM._**

She took a shaking breath, why was she doing this again? Oh yeah, Harry, right... "Just to make sure, you know I'm going to take your job right?"

There was the sound of thunder and she realized Always was laughing. **_I DO_**

Well, there wasn't much to say to that, now was there? She huffed, hating feeling as small and _young_ like she was right now, far too used to being above everyone but was able to push it to the side. "Fix me."

* * *

First step on the long road away from denial from Thana, now if we could only expect these phantom appearances of her in Hogwarts to be solved so painlessly...

This book is looking like it would have more chapters than the first one...And once again, thanks for the support, I really don't want to abandon this series.


	7. Start of Decline

**_I encourage reviews of any type._**

**Harry Potter and the Breath of Life**

_"I have often wondered whether or not the dead are subject to the Weave. While alive, I have come to the conclusion that every action is more or less dictated by this universal construct of Fate and it even dictates when and by what, one dies. Then what about ghosts? Echoes of a soul, trapped on the mortal Realm because of some "unfulfilled" task, is that even possible? It indicates that the Weave can be thwarted, however temporarily, by an untimely death but then what happens afterwards? Are they fragments of a whole, the rest gone off to where ever the dead go? Do they have a Fate of their own? Are they lingering in punishment? No matter how many times I ask, the Greater Being in charge of the living, Life, has refused to reveal the truth but I did manage to gain this little piece of insight: They owe a Debt. But what does that mean!" -Notes penned by Orion Nigellus Black_

* * *

Thana had next to no idea how Always was going to 'fix' her but only realized that it might have been better to be more specific after she woke up with a headache the size of her Realm. You always have perfect vision in hindsight, eh?

"Bastard," Thana mumbled under her breath as she squeezed her eyes shut tight, trying to make the universe stop spinning. "I'm going to be sick..."

"Please don't."

Thana cracked open an eye at the sound of her own voice but after a moment, she opened the other eye too. She was sitting on the floor, still holding her splitting head, in a place that looked just like her Void but without the familiar feeling of Death. It was almost as if Always had stripped all of the stars and galaxies out of the ever present view of Everything while she was out, leaving just a solid darkness that stretched out forever in all directions. The mysterious Realm wasn't the problem though, who cared what it looked like? It was more the fact that she wasn't alone.

But rather there with herselves.

Standing there in front of her with a straight-backed regal stance was a thinner version of her, close to being a skeleton in skin with white hair and the gold eyes of Death glinting coldly. To the right was a black haired Thana with the same gold eyes and a more openly arrogant posture, hand on her left hip in an 'I dare you' gesture. The last one on the left was curled into herself, black hair hiding a lot of her face and wide pure white eyes gazing out shyly, glimmering with unshed tears.

Suspending her disbelief for a moment, she pointed at the white-haired one. "What the fuck is going on?"

Thana's Death persona had a slightly confused expression before curling her lip in obvious disgust. "I see we have picked up more than a bleeding heart from the mortals," she drawled disdainfully. "How much farther do we have before we Remember everything?"

Arrogant Thana tossed her hair behind a shoulder and a familiar smirk faded into sight on her face. "A month, I'll give us a month. Pretty pathetic, isn't it?"

For a minute, there was complete silence as the three stared at Thana expectantly. She, in turn, shifted around on the ground uncomfortably but managed to keep a cool facade as she raised an eyebrow. "What? I'm not going to cry over it, what's done is done."

"Harry's worth it..." the third version murmured quietly, shrinking away as two pairs of gold and one of pale blue eyes turned to her. "Well, he is!"

The white-haired Thana had a "shoot me now" look on her face as she sighed. "Spare us all the agony. If I've told you once, I've told you ten thousand times to keep quiet."

"N-no! That's what got us like this in the first place!" Thana's headache was not fading but instead getting larger as the three alternate Thana's began to bicker back and forth about something or other. Of course, she placed the blame solely at Always' metaphorical feet, it certainly had the power to fix...whatever this was without the fanfaire. But noooo...was she really that unlikeable?

"SHUT UP!" Cue blinking from herselves as she rubbed at her temples. "What. Is. Going. On?"

Whitey stepped up first. "I am the Incarnate that existed before we ever got interested in a mortal, we were everything that mattered."

Arrogant then with a lazy shrug. "I'm the mask you created for the boy become real, human enough for him to get attached but immortal enough to remember our place."

And finally: "Our sense of inadequacy, our guilt and our sorrow. I are the result of Remembering what it is like to be mortal."

Thana's face twisted with a slightly scewed sense of concern. Always had thrown her into her mindscape to confront her multiple personalities. It was hard to believe she actually had different personalities...So she had more than just Death speaking in her head... "Fuck," seemed like a good way to describe this.

She looked up at her alternate selves and discovered two things: She had no idea how to get _out _of her mindscape as well as no clue where to begin 'fixing' herself. Apparently Always thought it a 'do-it-yourself' type of job.

"Fuck," described those realizations pretty well too.

* * *

"Nott?"

Most of Pomfrey's beds in the Hospital Wing were occupied and for once it wasn't because of Slytherin/Hufflepuff Quidditch matches. The medi-witch looked about ready to tear her hair out as she bustled about, trying new potions, writing up reports to St. Mungos and generally being very, very busy. No one suffered from major illnesses, not even the wizarding flu, but it didn't make that much of a difference.

No one was getting better.

Theodore Nott was the most extreme case. He had three parchment cuts on his hands, two on his palms and one on the side of his right pinky finger. The first two were of no real concern, they were really shallow and could be bandaged tightly enough to stop the leak. The pinky finger, though, held an artery and with the cut as deep as it was, Nott was slowly bleeding to death.

"Nott?" Harry tried again, seated at the edge of the cot. His Slytherin bunkmate was even paler than he usually was, enough to show the veins under his skin and completely out of it. It had seemed like just yesterday when Harry had dismissed his concern about non-healing cuts and now he knew that this was definitely his fault.

No, he was not quite to blame fully...

He was going to rip Pal a new one if he ever found her.

"I'm sorry, Nott." Harry said simply, as if he was discussing the weather, well aware that people might be listening in. "You really might die before I fix this," he continued in the same tone. The boy didn't know what he was expecting, but when the sick Slytherin didn't respond at all, he felt a small sense of disappointment. And then anger.

_--This is what happens-- _his sporadic whisper commented. _--This is what happens when Life rejects a location--_

_Cuts don't heal?_

_--Growth and healing is Life's jurisdiction. No one will grow older but you. No one gets healthy once sick, no cuts heal and unless Death is powering them, no magical creature will survive for very long either--_

Harry's head jerked up at the last bit, suddenly realizing why Dumbledore looked like the sky was falling down around his ears. Just about everyone knew about the man's familiar. _Fawkes!_

_--Yep, phoenixes are Life through and through. Not surprising, really--_

Harry tilted his head to the right, face scrunching up in his "thinking face." _I'll grow because Life doesn't have a hold on me?_

_--Yeah...-- _a more uncomfortable sounding whisper drawled. _--It's a mind over matter issue with us--_

_Huh?_

"Mr. Potter, you are still here!" The immortal boy flinched at Pomfrey's cross tone. After sneaking out of the Hospital Wing after that Astronomy Tower incident, she didn't seem to be so inclined to like him anymore. He was unsure whether it was her paranoia at diagnosing his cracked vertebrae or the fact that he slipped out from virtually right under her nose. He just scratched the back of his neck, flushing.

"Yeah, I'm still here..."

The medi-witch was glaring at him, a hair's breadth away from throwing him out when paniced voices fillid the Wing.

"Madam Pomfrey, Ernie fell down the stairs!" Cursing, she threw Harry one last dark look, but hurried off to deal with yet another patient. He just turned to Nott's unmoving form and took notice of the blood replenishing potion that was being dripped into his mouth by a tube. Harry made an irritated noise in his throat.

"I can probably fix this," he deadpanned and Nott twitched. "But I have no ruddy clue how."

And that's when it hit him.

Since Harry had taken to slinging the Rose across his back (it had been making funny shapes in his robe when he sat down) it had just hung there, mostly weightless and if he didn't have to take it off just to sleep every night, he would have forgotten about it completely. But now, now he was almost uncomfortably aware of it. The handle was just over his right shoulder, right in reach to draw it...

Harry licked his lips, green eyes shifting around the room for witnesses. _Nott will die if I don't..._ There was a reassuring pulse from the Rose, as if someone right behind him had squeezed his shoulder affectionately.

_--...harry!...-- _The cry was so faint, Harry wasn't even sure he actually heard it. It almost sounded like it was scared of something. There was another pulse and the boy relaxed. Probably nothing to worry about. He was positive that the sword could save Nott, save everyone...his thinking was getting a little fuzzy as the pulses got stronger and more frequent but he knew he wanted to play hero just this once. No harm done, right? His right hand twitched upwards.

_--...harry, please...listen!--_

_The Rose can save anybody, from anything! _He argued in his mind, no longer sure of who he was supposed to be talking to. His hand rose higher. _From anything..._

"Draw me, Harry." Someone breathed into his right ear but when he turned his head to look, there was no one there. "Use me, we'll save the boy and everyone else." Harry nodded dumbly but didn't make anymore moves. "Don't you want everything to go back to normal?"

_Normal..._And his mind made the association with a less than pleasant memory. _You freak! _His breath hitched and green eyes narrowed as a single thought made it through the haze. "Now why...should I listen to you?" This time the pulse felt like a blast of frigid air. "Should have quit while you were ahead and let me think it was my idea, it's the Slytherin thing to do." Harry stood up, jamming his hand into his pant pocket to prevent it from getting any funny ideas and gave the pale boy on the bed an apologetic glance.

"Sorry Nott. I'm not a Gryffindor."

The Slytherin Potter and turned away and then stopped dead because the Head of his House was currently blocking the exit.

Snape was sweeping his eyes over both Harry and Nott, for a moment looking like he was seeing some kind of nightmare come to life before his face settled back into that usual "I taste vomit in my mouth" scowl he always had on when Harry was within ten meters of him. "No, _Potter,_" the man literally spat onto the floor. "A Gryffindor you are not." The potions master shifted his body in a way that opened up at least half of the doorway but when Harry tried to pass, his arm was roughly grabbed. "And talking to yourself, Potter?" Snape drawled. "You have some explaining to do."

Harry nodded woodenly, already making the decision to lie through his teeth. He'd spill whatever they wanted to hear about Pal, but he was definitely leaving Thana out of it.

They'd find out about her over his dead body.

And just like that, a disturbingly happy smile spread across the boy's face.

_Which is never._

_--We worry me sometimes, glad to have you back--_

_Stop switching your bloody tenses. _Harry yanked his arm free and made a sweeping gesture with the same arm. "Shall we?"

* * *

Empathy had been waiting with Truth when Thana emerged from the gateway to Always' throne, white haired but still holding her infamous pale blue eyes somehow and looking far more thoughtful than either of them had ever seen her.

"You're calmer," Yin noted through Empathy with some approval lacing her voice. "Less...turbulent."

Thana simply blinked in her direction. "Harry called me bipolar once or twice, you know. Little shit was right." Truth snorted loudly at the young immortal being called a "little shit", scratching his cheek absently as he inclined his head.

"Since Always is hiding it...what did you have to do?" he asked politely, unsure of exactly how to act around a "fixed" Death Incarnate.

Those pale blue eyes stared so intently at him that he actually felt it, shifting around like some mortal about to be punished for a petty crime. "Stop fighting," was all she would say and his attempts to peek into her mind met with a glaring example of evidence that this was still Thanatos they were talking about. She hadn't reverted back into Death personified with her previous swearing, which he was happy to see, but it was still painful.

"The Universe doesn't fart, Death," he said dully as Empathy twitched.

"I would have thought a decade enough to get that out of her system." Yin replied as Thana put on an offended face.

"Well, something stinks in there and it was strong enough to knock the Void out..." she trailed off with a teasing grin and Truth realized that he had been had. "You know I don't like you reading my miiiiind," she sang and then slowly, rather than the abruptness of before, she sobered into a mildly content expression. "I'll miss being everthing that mattered."

Both Truth and Empathy nodded but only Truth offered, "The boy will make it up to you."

"Hmmm," she hummed. "He had better."

* * *

I have no idea why this took so long to get out...it's not anything impressive anyway! At first I was worried that I was losing interest but no, it was just my stomach acting up. Whoever recommended green tea, it tastes like shit but it helped! You are indirectly responsible for the series continuing...isn't that pathetic of me?

Anyway, Harry's showing some possessivness, the Rose has awoken and the Hogwarts situation has gotten a bit worse...expect it to decline even further. Good news, step number one towards Harry/Thana has been completed, now if only I told you what exactly that step was. I think it's obvious but then again, I'm the author which annoys me to no end.


	8. All Ends Well

_**I encourage reviews of any type. **_

**Harry Potter and the Breath of Life**

_"It's something strange and I have hidden it from Rowena the best I could but I fear she knows. Godric has inquired once or twice but he has that knightly quality to him, unable to believe that there is a problem he can't fix. Salazar...just looks and perhaps he has an inkling as well. It's so hard sometimes, so very hard. I am no longer sleeping through the night, nightmares of all shapes and sizes often seize me with terror. I feel jittery, as if there are crawling things just underneath my skin. My temper, oh my temper has been off the scale lately! I caught Godric cowering after breakfast this morning and I bet rumours are running abound in our school already! Our school..it hasn't shown in many of the students, thankfully but those that are slighty...off have given me my suspicions. Arthur is my top student, and lately he's been in a constant bad mood. I wish I could ask Salazar to investigate, but I know that he'd consider such mood swings to be an acceptable price for true necromancy. Well! I've decided, if it gets worse...I'll stop teaching. Godric will side with me, Rowena as well, I only hope Salazar doesn't do anything stupid." - Excerpt from Notes on True Necromancy by Helga Sarah Hufflepuff_

* * *

Harry would never like the look of the Headmaster's office.

In spite of the old grandfatherly scheme the man had obviously tried to build up in the place, there was just too many factors in the room that gave Harry the opposite image. The over-stuffed chairs he could pass over as belonging to someone with a horrendous fashion sense, but everything else stood out. The gadgets placed randomly around the office, for example. Harry had no idea what they did but they frequently moved or flickered, looking alien and it reminded the boy of that movie he had snuck at the Dursleys about a mad scientist. He could feel the eyes of the numerous portraits on his back as he sat down a bit awkwardly around the Rose. The Sorting Hat was there but silent and with Snape to his left, Harry felt like he was about to be interrogated.

It was close enough.

"It's been quite some time since you were last up here," the old man started gaily, blue eyes twinkling despite having heard from Snape that he had been talking to himself. "Would you like some tea, or a Lemon Drop perhaps?"

Harry glared. "If you don't get to the point, this is going to end like it did last time." Snape stiffened, and Harry could just see him thinking 'Arrogant, just like a Potter!' while Dumbledore slowly stopped smiling.

"Harry, my dear boy, this is quite troubling." The boy bit his tongue and kept quiet. "I'm sure you understand that talking to yourself or an invisible person is not seen as normal?"

_No shit, Sherlock,_ Harry thought grumpily but stayed silent.

Dumbledore's eyes drifted up to Snape and then back down again. "I must insist that you tell me who you thought you were talking to."

"Talking...to myself," Harry rolled his eyes. "I was trying to convince myself of something, because we wanted to help but the plan I came up with didn't agree with me," he said, managing to keep a straight face all the way through. "Simple, really, I don't understand why no one else does it. Having a second opinion helps."

Dumbledore didn't look amused.

And neither did Snape, for that matter.

"Harry..."

"Since we are talking about my mental health," Harry interrupted. "Could I convince you to call me Potter like everyone else?" Well, not everyone else, he had to admit. Hermione still had that rather nasty habit and for some bizarre reason couldn't seem to break it for all the books in the world.

There was a tense silence after that, Snape refraining from back-handing the boy in true Slytherin fashion (he fumed inside) while Dumbledore, tired and old as he was feeling, kept his stare locked on Harry, who stared back.

_I could do this all day, old man, _Harry thought, but as a couple more minutes ticked by, he amended his statement. His ass was getting numb and really, there was no reason to protect _Pal _of all people. The young immortal let out an aggravated sigh. Nothing could go his way for once could it?

"Ever heard of Incarnates?" he asked dully, not really expecting them to. Snape gasped though, face twisting in surprise and apprehension while Dumbledore paled. Harry just stared at the both, internally going "What. The. Fuck?"

"They don't exist," Dumbledore basically snapped as he regained his bearings. "Tales of horror but no more than obvious figments of your imagination. I'm sure you've heard of them and twisted the tales into reality."

Harry scoffed. "After your reaction, I doubt it."

"Harry, you don't understand," the old man stated gravely, folding his hands on top of the desk and gazing off past the Hogwarts' walls. "Grindlewald went further than any man, attempting to gain the attention of these 'Greater Beings' as he had called them. I worked with him, knew him and witnessed his descent into madness."

"Grindlewald, Dark wizard of the 1930's?" The boy cocked an eyebrow, tilting his head to the right. This was all very fascinating but he had no idea what it had to do with him. If he heard the name 'Voldemort' or 'You-Know-Who' just _once_, he was leaving no matter what.

"Severus, if we may be excused?" Once his Head of House left, Harry actually felt more relaxed, now certain that he wouldn't be falling out of his chair or down the stairs while leaving in an 'unfortunate' accident with no one but Snape near by. Harry sometimes had nightmares about that.

"Yes, Grindlewald, but he wasn't always that way. He was a brilliant man but he became slightly obsessed with his work," Dumbledore narrated and Harry was getting the feeling that he was telling the "child safe" version of the story. "I'm quite positive he started hallucinating as a result of pushing himself too far, he became convinced that something or some_one_ would not let him die. At times, he even reacted as if someone really was there."

Green eyes narrowed, already figuring where he was going to go with this.

"In the end, I was forced to face him in battle. There have been many accounts of those unwilling to believe in their own abilities, seeking faster routes to power. Harry," Dumbledore looked at him as if the boy was some stray waif that needed lessons on morality. "I know ambition is a trait of your House but-"

Strange, like it had with Hermione last year, it was as if Dumbledore had stopped speaking but kept his mouth moving for show. The unwanted History lesson, Harry could deal with but having this, this, this --_mortal-- _telling him that Thana was a figment of his imagination that he made up because of his House was simply too far.

Dumbledore knew they existed, the boy wasn't stupid but for some reason he wanted Harry to believe that they didn't.

And it was partially successful.

_I'm not making it up! _he screamed in his mind as his outer face went cold. He expected to hear something but the voice in his head was silent. _I'm not!_

Then he heard something but it wasn't what he hoped for and it wasn't welcome.

_We always thought it too good to be true, we're the freak, freaks don't have friends, remember our imaginary parents? Nothing good came of that, where is Thana now, we're making it up, we're always making stuff up, Uncle Vernon says we lie and steal things, we should be grateful for what they've done for us-_

He slapped a lid on it with a simple, _Dumbledore saw her last Christmas._

Said old man was speaking again. "Perhaps a preliminary check with St. Mungos, nothing official, just to make sure..."

"I'm not crazy." Harry said tightly and there was a pulse from over his right shoulder. _And I have proof right here... _"I'm not."

"Harry, hardly anyone will believe they are a little unwell..."

_"I'm not!" _Harry hissed, standing up and this time he could clearly see the troubled shadow that doused the twinkle in the Headmaster's eyes. The old man stood up as well, looking every inch the slightly senile old fool who meant nothing but the best intentions but something in the boy was screaming that he was in danger. Now or later, it didn't matter but he had to get _out. _

Dumbledore stepped around the desk, saying something and Harry took a step back on reflex, the room suddenly becoming a lot more oppressing. The man wanted him to explain things he couldn't, he was just Harry, he didn't make anything up, he wasn't telling anyone about Thana, never, never, _never!_

_--Harry, geez, calm down!--_

Harry backed into the chair a bit off, hitting the arm rest and tumbling to the floor. His glasses were jarred loose, hanging from his left ear but as he moved to put them back, taking deep breaths, Dumbledore moved into sight and ruined everything. Without his glasses firmly over his eyes, Dumbledore looked like a monster.

A thick, vicuous cord of what looked like oil was wrapped around the man's left arm up to his neck where it seemed to disappear into the body. The man was a lot more wrinkly and his eyes were a faded, washed out blue instead of the warm twinkling ones. Veins were popping out grostesquely everywhere, his robes were a faded grey and the only redeeming feature, was a single bright orange feather pinned over his heart, glowing. The most damning one, was a sickle shaped scar on his left hand.

_--You really should listen to me a lot more-- _a whisper said petulantly.

Upon seeing that scar, Harry's eyes rolled up in his head.

_--Save us a whole lot of trouble--_

And he passed out.

* * *

"Damn, boy." Harry's eyes shot open and he recognized the ceiling. Hospital Wing. "I can't leave you alone, can I?"

He turned his head slowly, hardly daring to hope...It was Thana, playing with the Rose like it was some kind of bat, with white hair of all things. He blinked a couple of times to make sure he was seeing right, but the hair remained sorely bleached.

"What the bloody hell happened to you?" he croaked and got a wide grin in turn.

"Nothing too important...mind telling me why you fainted...again?" Harry groaned, instinctively knowing he wasn't going to ever live this down, but fixed her with an intense stare. Slowly, he reached out and while she watched him warily, he patted her face. "Er...hello?" she muttered as he accidently poked her in the eye.

"Sorry," he snatched his hand back as if she had bit him, flushing something dreadful. "It's just...you're really here."

"You're not getting rid of me that easy," she responded cheekily, although her eyes showed she was still slightly confused.

He opened his mouth to ask about everything that had been bothering him lately. Did she know why Hermione changed and was now acting weird? Why Mrs. Norris...if she did it in the first place? What about Creevey? Dumbledore? But then he turned the questions into a small smile. It would be too easy for her to simply lie to him. He beat his inner Gryffindor back down, savagely.

"Are you going to stay?" he asked and felt a mild sense of deja vu. Instead of leaving or freezing though, she shifted from the air onto the bed, poking him in the side with her finger.

"Why not?" Harry's eyes widened but he didn't say anything and settle back into the hospital cot, half expecting Pomfrey to burst in and throw Thana out. The image made him snort. After a moment, he felt something on his forehead and looked up. Thana gave him a quick smile but then refocused on whatever she was doing. It took him a while to realize that she was tracing his scar with a finger. It creeped him out a little and red as a tomato, he tried to ignore it by glaring at the Rose.

The sword didn't respond and Harry felt oddly offended.

_--You gotta stop blocking me out!--_

_I'm not! _Harry shouted back immediately.

_--Yes, you are! You got pissy over the kid being petrified and kept blocking me!--_

Harry opened his mental mouth and found himself with nothing to say. Why did he even care about Creevey? As soon as the mandrakes grew, he'd be back to normal and un-petrified. Harmless, he really was being a git about it, wasn't he?

"Sorry," he mumbled and realized too late that he said it out loud.

"What was that?"

"Nothing!" he brought his sheets up to his chin, wanting to just sink through the floor and disappear. Today, hadn't been a good day. But it ended well as he began to drift off, Thana still tracing his scar and remembering the odd look on her face as she did so, wondering what it was for.

But he soon stopped caring. Thana was back, hurray, hurray, now to make it through the year alive.

Harry grimaced in his sleep.

And the Rose pulsed.

* * *

Deep within the castle, someone was feeling a little guilty as she watched the basalisk, her basalisk, slither about the large chamber. When she had first stumbled upon it, it had a rich green hide with reptilian yellow eyes and heavily infused with the stink of Death, having collected stores of necromantic energy from the Dead Zone over the centuries. Now it was a deep black and its eyes a harsh gold that reminded her far too painfully of Death's Incarnate.

"What do you want me to do?" She turned and smiled ruefully at the red headed little girl that stood there, clutching that disgusting black book to her chest like it was a shield.

"Get close to Potter, make him care about what happens to you." The girl's dull brown eyes got a little brighter as she nodded. "You can go."

Before she obeyed, she threw her arms around the woman's waist and mumbled, "I love you" childishly before scurrying back to the other side of the chamber. There was the sound of a harsh hiss and a stone door rumbled open.

Palquenta stood there, slightly shocked but very much aware of a sudden guest.

"Charming girl," Mystery stated politely as he looked around the chamber critically in his volumous robes, rubbing a woman's ring between his fingers. "It's almost a pity we have to kill her."

Pal didn't seem to be paying that much attention to anything, staring at the floor and clearly somewhere else.

* * *

_"Where is he?" a small girl with almost white hair, freckles across her nose and stormy blue eyes tugged on someone's robe impatiently. She was going to be taught how to control Life today, he had promised!_

_"Ah," this dark skinned man with a shiny bald head and his eyes bandaged, scratched his cheek and looked nervous. "I suppose he is...not coming back." She reeled back, eyes wide with a sudden fear. "Jumped right into Styx and got carried off. Unorthodox, but it worked."_

_"He cannot be...dead!" she screeched, stomping her foot on the ground. "Cannot be!" She paused as she saw someone out the corner of her eye, her favoritest person ever and excitedly ran over, throwing her arms around the woman's waist as she always did. "Thana..." And then suddenly, she was on the ground. The girl looked up and was shocked speechless, gone was the easily smiling and trickster Incarnate, replaced by someone whose eyes were cold enough to make her shiver._

_The woman turned to the blind man. "Osiris is dead," her voice cracked on the last word but she plowed through. "That means Palquenta is Life Incarnate."_

_"What!" the girl cried. "He hasn't trained me yet!"_

_"Is that **all** you care about!?" Thana exploded. "Does the word **dead** mean anything to you? Does it!"_

_Palquenta couldn't stop the reactionary tears that gathered in her eyes while the blind man stepped between them. "Thanatos, calm down, she's just a child with no experience at all."_

_The woman sneered, her eyes flashing this strange and harsh golden color as she sharply turned away and left without a second glance._

* * *

Palquenta's face hardened. "Yes...a real pity..."

* * *

And ta da...something is going on with Harry's mood swings and what the heck did all that stuff on Dumbledore mean? But to make sure I got it right...Dumbles is right handed, correct? And a peek at what the little (or big) feud between Pal and Thana is about...what's going to happen with Ginny?


	9. The Third Exhale

_**I encourage reviews of any type.**_

**A/N: Sorry, sorry and sorry for the delay! This was supposed to be out a day or two ago but I ended up rewriting a whole bunch of stuff.**

**Harry Potter and the Breath of Life**

_"The second order of business will dive into the uncharted realm of oaths. We know of the existence of things such as Unbreakable Vows and Magical Oaths but far too many witches and wizards will accept the explanation of: it works. But why? Our magic is used to heal, build, torture and kill with nothing but our ability stopping us. Then why are we allowed to do anything we wish, as if morality didn't exist, but not contradict ourselves? If I say, I swear on my magic, what is enforcing the oath? Surely my magic wouldn't take itself away and indeed, afterwards, where does it go?" - Thaddeus Burwright, Unspeakable Traitor_

* * *

Hermione had lost count of how many books this one made which was an embarrassment. Not for her, she had somehow outgrown the obsessive attitude towards books but for the Hogwarts Library. For a place of such high renown, it was already gaining the reputation of having exactly what she _didn't_ need in her mind. So far she had gone through vampires and their cousin, the half vampyre, werewolves, naiads, nymphs, fairies, dryads, succubi (when no one was looking), and the vague mention of Inferi in one Restricted book.

None of them came close to what she was looking for and she was looking for a soulless human.

"You should look up fire-proofing," a distant and slightly mysterious voice said. "You never know when a stray spark might ruin your day." The muggleborn pureblood girl glanced up and her eyes met with empty, vacant grey-blue.

"Hello to you too, Luna," she said with a small smile and bookmarked the page she was on. Luna Lovegood, Ravenclaw, made for some strange company. She made the weirdest comments sometimes, talked about fictional creatures as if they not only existed but were right in front of her and wore a butterbeer cap necklace and radish earrings. But to Hermione, that wasn't the worst of it. Luna _felt _strange. Maybe it was all those movies she shouldn't have seen over the summer but she half expected the girl to pop tentacles and call down a space ship. If she had to compare it to anything, Luna felt like...like...

Like that mirror.

Unconsciously, Hermione straightened. Still with that dreamy smile on her face, Luna reached out and plucked something from behind Hermione's ear.

"Wha-" her hand flew up, trying in vain to guess at what might have been there but the blonde's hand was empty. The Gryffindor watched blankly as Luna seemed to mime cuddling something small and then letting it go onto the table.

"You had an Ausprite tangled in your hair, I think they like you."

Sighing at the matter-of-fact tone, Hermione opened her mouth. "What's an Ausprite..."

Luna gave her a conscending look. "Wisps of decay. They like to nest in castles like this but I imagine there's a lot more than usual this year." The blonde glanced down and gracefully took a seat, randomly flipping through a book. "What were you looking for?"

"Nothing too important," Hermione said smoothly, keeping her voice even and steady as she had been taught. "A curiosity really, about mythical creatures." The strange girl's face brightened and she began to fiddle with her bottlecap necklace.

"I have a book on mythical creatures written by my great-grandmother, if you would like?" she asked shyly and Hermione let out a breath she didn't even realize she had been holding.

"That would be great," she said honestly. With all of the creatures the girl came up with, the book would either be complete rubbish or a scholar's gold mine. There would be no harm in taking a peek either way and Hermione was at the very least, thorough. She watched as Luna slid out of the wooden chair bonelessly, making her wonder and not for the first time what the blonde's lineage was, and stretch a little.

"The dueling club will start soon," Luna looked over her shoulder to state and Hermione jerked in slight surprise. She had forgotten all about Lockhart's attempt to seem like a real teacher. It was beyond stupid with the strange non-healing going on but since both Snape and Professor McGonnagall was going to be there overseeing the large Second and First Year class, it shouldn't be lethal.

Emphasis on _shouldn't._

"I'll be there in a minute." Hermione turned back to her book but a detailed black-and-white picture in another caught her attention. It was the book Luna had been messing around with and the image was of this grostesque statue of clay with eyes covering every inch. She almost put it back down but the first line under Weaknesses stopped her.

_'Much like its kin the vampire and the Inferi abomination, the surface covering is in a perpetual state of decay which makes it exceptionally vulnerable to open flame.'_

Hermione's mind began to whirl into a surreal blend of Luna's voice and of her own reading phrases from the book.

_"Ausprites...I think they like you..." __...Perpetual state of decay..._

_"...Wisps of decay..." __...Exceptionally vulnerable..._

_"You should look up fire-proofing...You never know..." __...To open flame..._

_"...When a stray spark might ruin your day..."_

So Luna knew. The Second Year Gryffindor rolled her eyes in exasperation and slammed the book shut much to Madame Pince's dismay. For some reason, the revelation didn't surprise her one bit. She would read the rest of the chapter later, around less people and perhaps with Harry nearby but at the moment she had a class to get to. _Hermione Granger, golem, _she thought bizarrely as she flounced out of the Library. _It has a nice ring to it. Much better than 'thrall' at any rate._

* * *

"Your school feels like Tartarus, Potter," Thana was saying as she walked beside the immortal boy down the halls, trailing a hand along on the stone. "What the hell happened to it?"

"I dunno," Harry muttered back, clutching his bag tighter to him. "It was like this since school started."

To the boy, the castle was cold and unforgiving, mechanical and completely uninterested in those roaming its halls. To Thana, everytime she touched the wall, the place was thrumming. There were lingering touches of her own influence leaking from the stone, reaching out to greet her. Every so often she came across something deeper, a hidden room or a pipe maybe, that held lingering traces of both Life and Death in it. Hogwarts had been the mortal equivalent of a Claimed Realm and now it was suddenly adrift.

She could feel the vestiges of a room that reeked of Desire's meddling, stretching itself out in the power vacuum. Thana's own Dead Zone underneath the school was shifting upwards when it shouldn't. She gave Harry a sideways glance but kept her mouth shut about it. If people started getting fatally sick, it wasn't her problem.

Partially to distract herself and partially to distract him, Thana reached out to mess with his top tuft of hair. It was wonderfully fuzzy, sticking out even more despite the irritated glare of wounded dignity that Harry was giving her. He was taller, she realized suddenly and then wondered why the hell did that matter!? So he would soon be taller than her...

Shaking off the odd shiver that went down her back, she caught up to boy she was lagging behind only to groan out loud a second later. " Always Ever Changing," she swore under her breath. "A Spawn." And Harry was walking right towards IT.

"Lovegood, did you see Hermione?" Harry was asking IT, unaware of exactly what he was talking to. Then again, if he knew, he might not care. He was strange like that.

The blonde IT smiled wider. "Harry." The boy scowled. "She was in the library but I passed a nest of Glucite bugs so it might take her a couple of minutes to get here," IT informed him seriously and Harry blinked in confusion.

"O...kay..." Shaking his head he briskly walked into the classroom. IT stood there in the vacant hallways with grey-blue eyes that seemed to look right through the walls. Thana said nothing, did nothing but stare back. IT was familiar and that feeling had deposited a small lump of cold lead in her stomach.

"You should ask him about Mrs. Norris ," IT said airily as a small, dark smile crossed IT's face. "You should have been there." Thana held in her temper with some effort. No Incarnate could imagine anything lower than a Spawn, not even a single celled organism could be as disdainful. As far as the universe was concerned, Spawns had no name and even their thread in the Weave was a uniform grey colour of no importance. Spawns were the only true abomination and for an IT to presume to talk to an Incarnate-

Unthinkable.

Thana reached out and ripped the motive from IT's mind.

"I didn't hate your mother, you know," Thana said slowly as a sharp spark of annoyance shot through her. It was just one thing after another wasn't it? Perhaps the universe was out to get her.

IT's hand flew up to the strange necklace barely hidden behind the collar of IT's school robes, face twisting. "You killed her!"

"I'm Death," she answered in tones nonchalant enough to compete with IT's usual dreamy voice. "I'm always killing somebody." The hateful snarl vanished as if it had been slapped off. IT kept trying to bring it back but couldn't seem to muster the emotion necessary to do so, leaving behind what looked remarkably like a timid and sad little blond girl.

"Did I have to see...?" IT asked. Thana could have said a lot of things to this question, ranging from yes, to maybe, to no, to 'I don't know' or even 'Take that up with Fate' but she found herself momentarily tongue tied. None of those answers would come out, the words content to stay stuck in her head. Perhaps she just remembered that it was a Spawn she was talking to, maybe it was the feel of Harry's confused presence approaching the scene, Fate's manipulations or she plain just got bored and uncomfortable with the topic.

Whatever the reason, the end result was of Thana inclining her head, spinning on her heel, and abruptly being replaced by empty space.

* * *

Harry Potter's first dueling experience sucked so badly the boy didn't think there was a word to describe how bad it was.

There had been nothing wrong with the room. It was one of the many empty classrooms in the castle that was so heavily fortified with cushioning charms, the very walls rippled with each step. The desks had all been vanished and the chairs were arranged in an oval, all facing the center where a raised platform rested. McGonnagall was rather close to it, watching everything in a feline manner behind her horned rim glasses. Lockhart in the center as if he was at a podium and Snape was scowling over in a dark corner. No, the room had been fine.

The company had been ok. Malfoy had snuck out of the Hospital Wing with a bandage the size of a golf ball wrapped around his middle finger parchment cut, proclaiming the unfairness of _almost_ not being able to see Snape make Lockhart look like the fool he really was. Lovegood was staring off into space somewhere to the left, practically invisible with how quiet and withdrawn she suddenly was. She didn't fall into the 'friend' category so Harry mostly ignored her. Hermione had straggled in a little late but was now in the seat just in front of him. There was one unwelcome: the creepy red headed girl, still with that damn book, directly behind him.

His 'other' was chatting happily away in his head about everything and nothing of importance. There was a glaringly empty space though, and he had caught himself glancing over about six times now. You'd think he'd be used to it by now.

The beginning of the "lesson" on dueling was predicatable. On McGonnagall's "Start!" Snape blasted Lockhart into the cushioned wall with a simple _expelliarmus_. As the blond ponce tried to justify himself, the entire room laughed at him. Malfoy, Harry thought, laughed the loudest. It wasn't until volunteers were drafted to demonstrate did things go to hell.

Maybe he was trying to redeem himself, but Lockhart's eyes had lit up with a feverish glow. "Come on up here, Harry!"

Groaning, he stood up and walked to the center with every eye on him. _--Give them the ol' two fingered salute!-- _the chatty whisper in his head crowed.

_Um, how about no?_ As Harry thought to himself, Snape chose the next 'volunteer.' "Zabini!" Grinning widely, the olive-skinned Slytherin pranced over under their Head of House's foul stare. Zabini seemed to have made it his personal mission to make sure that Harry didn't get too big of a head in Slytherin and that included beating the Boy-Who-Defeated-Voldemort-Before-His-Teeth-Came-In down in a duel apparently.

The other boy got into this straight backed and bended knee stance with his wand pointing at the ground. "Ready for humiliation, Potter?" he taunted. Harry nodded stiffly, belatedly realizing that his Crucio might not be the best thing to cast in front of the professors. Far too many questions.

And that left what? Expelliarmus, Incendio, Wingardium Leviosa, a shaky Protego and an unpracticed Stupefy?

Wow. He was screwed.

Harry didn't even bother taking a stance but lifted his wand with a grimace. Snape looked half pleased and half disgusted as he stalked off the stage, dragging Lockhart behind him who was shouting encouragement to his "fellow celebrity." McGonnagall looked between both boys and raised her wand.

The whisper in Harry's head suddenly fell silent.

"Start!"

"_Expelliarmus!"_ was the first spell that came rocketing out of the wand. Harry watched it streak towards him in an oddly detached way. The spell couldn't even hurt him, maybe he should throw the fight and get on with it? A second later, he could have punched himself in the head. Throw the fight and he would get the wrath of Zabini, Malfoy would never shut up about it and neither would Hermione.

Harry sidestepped quickly and snapped his own wand. "_Expelliarmus!"_ As soon as the bolt of energy ended, he flicked the tip of his wand. _"Protego!" _The shimmering half dome that repelled Zabini's _Stupefy_ was a relief to see and Harry must have over-powered it or something, because it held up against three more stunning spells without wavering. Annoyed, Zabini moved his wand.

_"Serpensortia!"_ The cobra that appeared drained the blood out of Harry's face. Protego didn't do much against solid objects and if he cancelled the shield to cast the slow Incendio, he was done for.

_Shit. Oh well, I tried._

_--Here, let me help us--_

It was like a switch had been turned on in his mind. One moment, the ominous hissing of the snake was something to fear. The next, it warped into some garbled _"food, food, food, food, food"_ chanting that sounded like it was being sung under water. He wanted to say something along the lines of "what the bleeding hell?" but his mouth seized up.

_"Bite the nest-traitor!" _His mouth said and the cobra stopped.

_"Food?"_ Harry pointed at Zabini hopefully and the snake turned around. _"Food!"_ It made it to about a foot to Zabini before McGonnagall banished it.

"Winner, Potter." The woman said shakily. She opened her mouth again with a stern set to her jaw, as if about to reprimand someone for something but snapped it shut with an audible _click!_

Zabini was looking at Harry and instead of being mad or nonchalant about losing, he looked like he was in awe. "I knew it," he whispered and that's when Harry noticed. The room was silent and it wasn't a good silence. He turned this way and that but everywhere was expressions of fear, disgust or a terrified awe. Snape had swallowed something exceptionally nasty and Lockhart's smile was severly strained. And with the Transfiguration professor, it was as if Harry had betrayed her.

"I KNEW IT!" A red headed boy near the back suddenly yelled. Weasley. "I _knew _you were Dark, Potter. Admit it!"

The immortal boy's lip curled but he didn't dignify that with a response. He marched out the door and no one stopped him.

He didn't get very far though.

* * *

_A feeling of elation...darkness moving...a wetness, damp? It was rearing its head in annoyance...it wanted to KILL!_

* * *

Harry blinked rapidly, trying to clear his vision from the mass amount of white dots that had over taken it. He had a headache and was generally NOT HAPPY at the moment.

_--Um, don't look now--_ There was a scream and when he finally got his eyesight under control, he found himself staring at the greyed and slackened face of one Marcus Flint, still with his hand raised and mouth opened. And in front of Marcus was an unmoving Peeves, the only ghost left in Hogwarts.

Harry didn't even have the time to step away before the hallway became filled with students and he realized what this must have looked like: Potter gives proof of "Darkness," exits in a hissy fit and is then found with a petrified student. Lovely.

_Oh, bugger._

Snape stalked forward from among the throng of whispering students. "Potter, Headmaster's office. Now!" Harry didn't want to go back up there to Dumbledore, not after what happened last time. He tried searching for his friends to defend him but they were no where to be found. Someone, probably Snape, grabbed his shoulder tightly and began to lead him away from the scene but Harry could feel the eyes boring into his back.

He clenched his fists and wanted to kill something. And in his mind, in a different place than where his whisper lay, two words echoed.

_"Draw me..."_

* * *

She watched the basalisk retreat into its small den within the statue and heard the sound of the stone door closing the entranceway once more. She relaxed her hold on it once she felt it go to sleep and a sudden chill made her tremble.

A cough. And then another one.

Turning her head, Palquenta vomited blood onto the stone floor.

"There is a reason why the Incarnates were made," Mystery intoned from where he was squatting over the animal bones. "To keep the forces of the universe seperate from the others. You know this." Dry heaving, the Incarnate of Life couldn't say anything. "The boy is a grey area but not one to mess with so foolishly."

"You won't ask me to stop?" she rasped, arms wrapped around her stomach and red flecking her lips. "I can't..." Her words were cut off as more red poured out.

Gilgamesh and Mystery inside him watched her without pity. "Can you not hear Life screaming?" he asked dully. "You degrade yourselves this way."

"Life? I can't hear it." Pal laughed bitterly. "I can't hear it! Never could."

Gil hummed, twisting a ring around in his fingers and said nothing.

* * *

Yeah, past couple of days have not been good for my writing muscles. Not only did it take me half of forever to figure out what I wanted in this chapter, but writing it along with Olympus and Inevitable was a nightmare. I am never doing that again. And I can't write duels. I tried, didn't work. Anyhow, Harry Potter is not a parselmouth! Luna's...something else and we'll cover the details of a golem next chap! I hope no one is too mad or annoyed at me...


	10. End of Time

_**I encourage reviews of any type.**_

**Harry Potter and the Breath of Life**

_"There is too much out there that we don't know about. And when the Ministry doesn't know about something, good people, our families get hurt because they were not under the cloak of protection this government offers! The more mysteries there are, the less control we have over potential dangers and the more likely the muggles are to stumble upon it. Do we want them once more aware of our world? History will be repeated and, ladies and gentlemen, history that nearly destroyed us. I, as Minister, will do my best to scout out these dangers before they claim lives. And we will start with the troubled ramblings of that madman, Burwright!" - Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magical Britain_

* * *

When Potter walked out that door, all in a huff, Draco knew intellectually that he should probably be feeling worried or something. Regretful? Sad? The Heir was most likely still wandering the halls and he had no real way of knowing whether Potter's half-blood status would put the boy in danger or not. However, Draco Regulus Malfoy, the only son of Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy, was a bit too Slytherin to give the possibility more than a passing thought. He'd worry about it, after it happened.

"Can you imagine?" he said out loud to himself. "A Potter descending from Slytherin? Everyone thinks they came from Gryffindor."

Granger shrugged. Unlike her housemates, the only expression on her face was one of slight concern. "We don't know his whole lineage and the Potters _were_ pureblooded." she stated matter-of-factly. "His grandmother was a Black so a Gaunt further up the line isn't impossible..."

"Hmm," Draco nodded and smirked a little at the offended look on Severus' face as he stalked over to the door Potter just left through. "Hmm..." The sudden scream that echoed through the closing door made him start a little. "What the bloody hell...?" Granger had suddenly gone a deathly white.

"Another one..."

The entire class was emptying out into the hallways and the unlikely duo of an arrogant Slytherin and a bookworm Gryffindor drifted out along with them. Draco soon found himself in the uncomfortable position of not only being unaware of what was going on in the halls, who was the victim this time and such, but also being ignored. He tried forcing his way through but he was still only a Second Year, there was little meat to his bones. Yelling did nothing, threats had even worse results when some Fifth Years glared at him so he sat back to brood.

Catching sight of Granger's smug expression he snapped, "With a word, _Granger,_ I can make your life miserable!"

"Oh, _Malfoy,_" she hissed in return, stomping on his foot, hard. "How very subtle. Are you sure gold and red aren't your colours?" The blond boy sputtered indignantly but the only words that came to mind would only prove her point. Not for the first time, he wondered how he got into this mess; a Malfoy being familiar with a Gryffindor of all houses. But a second later, like he always did, he remembered.

Potter.

The Boy-Who-Lived attracted nutcases. First, there was Granger, then that mudblood Firstie with that infernal muggle contraption that blinded people and now that...Lovegood girl. As if just thinking about her would cause her to appear, Draco glanced around guiltily but she was no where in sight. For once.

There was the sound of his godfather's voice shouting at someone, most likely Potter, but he couldn't jump up high enough to see. When the crowd started to disperse, every single student whispering to someone else, he made as if to jog forward. He had the vague plan of catching up to Potter and wrangling the details about the snake tongue out of him but it derailed once he caught sight of the Heir's latest victim.

Marcus Flint was the captain of the Slytherin Quidditch team with grades high enough to be a prefect. His family was an old one, although they kept relatively to themselves and were traditional Slytherins and Ravenclaws. He was pureblooded.

And his father said to let the Heir get rid of the mudbloods...

He was pureblooded and he was _petrified._

Quite suddenly, Sprout was in his face. "You should be heading back to your class now, Mr. Malfoy," the plump Hufflepuff Head said softly and shooed him a little ways down the hall. Draco kept stealing glances behind him.

"How will...?" Something dark flashed through Sprout's eyes before she forced a grin. He could tell it was forced because her cheeks tensed, creating slightly deeper than normal smile lines. It was a smile like his mother's whenever he walked into the room.

"Those mandrakes from class won't take too much longer to mature. We'll have him and Colin back before final exams!" Granger was pulling at his robe so he gave the woman a nod before allowing himself to be dragged away. The walk back to the dueling room was a tense and quiet one but he had to say something.

"Flint's petrified." He winced even as he said it.

"Yes, and?" was the girl's only response to that but she did give him this strange look. "You should go back to the Hospital Wing."

It hit him suddenly as she said that. The Heir, getting rid of mudbloods was one thing but he couldn't possibly have anything to do with these non-healing cuts, could he? You would think, that his father would know or at least inform him of stuff like this-

Unbidden, his own words to Potter came back to him. _He acted like some kind of animal..._ He had met the Dark Lord almost face to face and what had happened.

Draco's silvery blood eyes began to dart around, taking in every shadow and every odd shape. He had almost been killed last year and Flint was petrified. Things were not unfolding how they were supposed to. This was all wrong and he just _knew _Potter had something to do with it. The bloody Boy-Who-Lived always had something to do with it.

* * *

"I'm starting to get suspicious of you, Headmaster," Harry drawled as he picked at some of the threads sticking out of his over-stuffed chair. "You know a lot but don't do much."

The old man sighed and this time, with Harry's glasses dangling from his other hand, he really did look _old._ Some details that the boy hadn't been in the frame of mind to pick up on before were making themselves known like the patchwork helm of Dumbledore's grey robes or the fading band of red that looped around the orange feather pinned on the man's chest. It was still a gross picture but now it was almost morbidly fascinating. What would Snape look like without his glasses on?

"There isn't much that I can do. Hogwarts has been a refuge in dark times for over one thousand years, Harry." There was a moment of silence as Dumbledore popped another Lemon Drop in his mouth. "You know Voldemort is still out there, we can't afford to have this school closed."

Harry inclined his head and cast his eyes about the room. "Do you even have a clue as to how to reverse any of this?" He had one, hanging over his right shoulder... "Do you?"

"The mandrakes are commonly used to treat petrification," was the non answer that the boy expected to hear.

_Mandrakes? _he inwardly asked.

_--Kill with a scream, right? Sounds like Death infused--_

_So they'll work?_

_--Doubt it, can't heal stuff without Life--_

_So they're just lethal plants now..._

Bugger. Harry let out a sigh. "They won't work." Dumbledore didn't say anything to that and he sighed again. "So, about the snake..."

The old man shook his head. "I do not have an answer at this time, Harry. There is an explanation for it, however but research will be slow." Harry didn't believe that; didn't believe it any further than he could throw the Headmaster but without proof it was better to just keep quiet.

"Can I go now?"

"You may."

* * *

Luna noticed it first.

"No Ausprites, that's odd. I thought they would love this place."

Hermione, even though she didn't think Ausprites existed, couldn't help but to agree with her. If decay was what those fantastical creatures liked then Moaning Myrtle's bathroom was the place for them to be. Myrtle herself wasn't there anymore, gone with the rest of the ghosts in the castle but the neglected state of her bathroom told the Gryffindor and Ravenclaw that it wasn't used by living people that much either.

An odd...scent was the only way to put it, was emanating from it and it made her skin prickle. It was her first time near a ghost's anchor point but she never thought it would feel like this.

"Can you feel it?" Luna was asking and Hermione gave a sharp nod.

"Thanks for showing me one, it'll be a nice thing to add in my essay." She had thought about asking McGonnagall, the substitute history professor while Binns was on 'hiatus,' where the boring old ghost was anchored but it seemed kind of personal. Besides, she had a feeling it was his room and she wouldn't be allowed in there anyway. As they left the bathroom, Hermione scratched her hand. It had started to itch since they went in, maybe she was allergic to mold?

She looked down and saw a mottled brown blot on the back of her hand. Alarmed, she lifted it closer to her face for inspection and nearly gagged from the faint whiff of ammonia.

"What's wrong?"

Hermione swallowed thickly as her amber eyes met Luna's greyish blue. "I'm rotting."

* * *

Halloween was coming soon and after that was Christmas with the Malfoy's. Soon, he would be beyond the half year mark and could see the end of this challenge. He was looking forward to when he could get rid of this _stupid-_

He tore the thing off and threw it on the floor of the Commons, uncaring of who could stumble upon it.

-sword that just wouldn't bloody _shut up _everytime he thought of anything remotely depressing. It was wearing his nerves very thin leaving him feeling a bit tired and frayed at the end of the day like a shirt washed too many times. Faded almost.

And hungry but nothing he was eating would quench it.

He stormed into the empty dorm room. Empty, because Nott was still in the Hospital Wing along with Goyle who came down with the wizarding flu and Crabbe whom had broken his nose on a door. Harry was in a foul mood from the whispers that followed him at dinner and he just wanted to sleep-

He paused at his bed.

Thana was sleeping in a half-sitting position on it with her back to the wall and head lolled forward enough to send her hair over her face. Without thinking about it, he stilled and moved closer carefully.

"Thana?" he whispered. She didn't move.

_She actually sleeps?_

_--Look at her hands--_

Harry looked. Her left hand was trapped underneath her but the right was splayed out palm up and said palm was burnt red and blistered. Small rivulets of blood were leaking from cracks in the skin and as he watched, one of the blisters bubbled and then popped. He wrinkled his nose.

_How'd that happen?_

_--She's an idiot!-- _the whisper snapped at him, almost growling. _--The only thing that can hurt an Incarnate is them doing something they aren't supposed to do--_

He tilted his head to the right and furrowed his eyebrows. _Like what?_

_--Want to see?--_ It took about all of three seconds for Harry to agree. He climbed in and sat next to her, carefully placing his left hand on top of her right one (holding his breath) and closed his eyes. Something in his head seemed to expand as he felt like he was lazily spinning in circles. His bracelet warmed and his scar tingled.

* * *

_Harry stepped out of the Mists, feeling confused about something but every time he tried to grasp whatever it was he had just been thinking about, it slipped away. He took a step forward, faltered and then gained an unfamiliar resolve. It was Time, he thought and there was a pulse of amusement following it. His walk was swift past these golden arches to an immense statue of a balancing scale. A woman was there, leaning against it, with her eyes bandaged in white._

_"Justice doth not condone this course of action," she said stoically and Harry shrugged._

_"I don't exactly need permission, now do I?"_

_The woman nodded and clapped her hands together. "My brother has indeed forseen this. Be on your way." The gold faded away into wisps of white, curling smoke and Harry could clearly see the form of a kneeling man in front of him. White hair, white eyebrows and these pale blue eyes that disgusted Harry. Everything about the man made him feel vile._

_"This is it, Time," Harry said in a tone that was too light for what he was feeling. "No more strings."_

_"Chaos once existed in the distant past. I fear you will not like it anymore than you do Order," the man said calmly as he closed his eyes. "You could fail, what would the boy think?"_

_"There wouldn't be a universe for him to think in," Harry shot back, feeling angry at the low blow. He forced a semblance of calm. "It's a win-win situation."_

_The man shifted casually and raised an eyebrow. "Why did you never have a Chosen? Things have never needed to progress this far."_

_"That's something both you and Osiris fucked up!" Harry snarled, pointing at the man. "It's hard to imagine being anything else than Death when you're Chosen from day one. You were both bastards," Harry's voice caught. "Both of you..."_

_The man's eyes opened. "Do I sense you moving past it?"_

_Harry didn't know what he was talking about but his head turned away anyway. "I hate you."_

_"And you always will." He inclined his head upwards. "It is Time."_

_Harry stepped forwards, raised his arms, and put his hands around the man's neck. He could see into the other set of eyes and was surprised to see that he didn't look like himself. He was female, milky white skin with white hair and those same pale blue eyes. His reflection had an arrogant nose that curved upwards ever so slightly at the tip and delicate eyebrows. He knew this face._

_His hands reflexively tightened and there was a snap. He watched, detached as the other set of blue faded into complete white. He let go._

_"I'm sorry," he murmured._

_And his hands burned._

* * *

His lungs were burning as he snapped awake and he couldn't breathe.

"I told you," Thana's voice spoke slowly in the darkness. "I told you to _stay out of my head!"_ The pressure on his neck increased and he imagined his neck creaking under her hand. There was no one in the room, he didn't think anyone could help him even if they knew. He wasn't sure if he even wanted help.

Harry gasped. "I-I'm sorry-!"

"No," she drawled lazily. "No you're not because as soon as that _infantile_ mind of yours can justify it, you'll look again." More pressure. "Won't you, _boy?_"

"You can't kill me!" Harry half-shouted desperately, spots of light beginning to appear before his eyes. "You need me!"

"Do I?" His heart fell to hover just above his big toe. "Eternity is useful to me, not Harry Potter and Eternity, the _cheater,_ he'll find someone else." He definitely heard his neck pop but he refused to lower himself to begging. "There was one before you and there'll be another. I'm patient." Her voice was calm, far too calm; it was like it belonged to someone else. The Thana he knew would rant and rave when angry, cursing like a sailor.

He could feel himself _dying _and she might as well be talking about an annoying fly. He called out in his mind, but the whisper was silent. He felt like he was about to burst.

"T-Tha-"

"You owe me everything!" she blurted and the pressure eased a bit, allowing him to take a few precious gulps of air. "Without me you'd just be some _mortal_ with flashes of competence. You're mine, Harry!" Her hand left him completely and he nearly collapsed. For a good five minutes he laid there on his bed, rubbing at his throat and reveling in the fact that he was still alive!

"Why stop?" he asked bluntly when his breathing was under control.

"You're mine," her voice shook a bit. "And I didn't want you to see me like that." Harry strained his eyes behind his glasses, trying to see if she was crying but couldn't make out a damn thing.

He did owe her everything and if there was one thing the Dursleys had taught him, before ever becoming a Slytherin, it was that being useful was much better than being useless.

"What do you want from me?"

"Just grow up a bit, Potter. You'll know."

* * *

The universe had groaned when Time died without a Chosen to fill in the gap. Fortunately for Everything, Time, like it was with Fate and Eternity, existed outside of the Incarnates. The hole it left was relatively stable and Time was allowed to run wild and unregulated for the first time since its conception.

It wasn't much in the grand scheme of things, Time was a rather stable and straight forward universal Force, but it was a start. But the start of what, no one but Truth and Death herself knew.

* * *

We're getting close to this year's face off, I'm guesstimating at two more chapters till then but unlike the last book that won't be the end of Second Year. Review!


	11. Heart of Stone

**_I encourage reviews of any type._**

**Harry Potter and the Breath of Life**

_"There will always exist a fear of the unknown. Some will fear taking that step forward, others will fear taking other paths than the one directly in front of them. A few will have the mysteries of their past haunt them throughout their lives, fear secrets that they have kept from even themselves, fear their potential, fear acheiving some distant goal, fear even the impossibilities and closed doors. Fear of the past, fear of the future, fear of failure, fear of weakness, fear of losing someone or something, fear of living, fear of death. All that which the conscious mind is not aware of spawns a primal instinct of fear in complex creatures. It's a hard thing to control and suppress but even when the results are successful, that fear can never be erased completely. Occulemency can help in the shielding of the mind from outside influences and even internally driven emotions but do not even attempt to go further than this introduction if you cannot acknowledge the anchor of your mental defenses. What do you fear?" - The Mental Defense by Rupert R. Bagnold_

* * *

Harry hadn't slept a wink yet but that was ok; he'll just keep quiet about it. He couldn't find it in him to be too annoyed anyway. The green-eyed boy had tried to get angry but with Thana treating him like a teddy bear it was kind of hard to muster up the negative energy when he probably looked silly. She was almost cuddling him and it was taking him a while to figure out what he was supposed to think about it.

It was too weird of a feeling to really identify.

On her side and dead to the world, Thana moved very little. She was unnaturally still and much to Harry's surprise, she didn't even breathe. The rise and fall of the ribcage was absent, her eyes weren't moving beneath her eyelids no matter how deep in a sleep she seemed to be and the boy could have sworn that the temperature of the room had been steadily dropping. Either that or he was just warm for some reason.

Shrugging the thought off, Harry returned to staring at his left hand. Just like his right one, the palm glowed slightly darker in the absolutely abysmal lighting. It was lightly burnt and probably red, he could feel the skin stretch whenever he made a fist. And he made a fist often. His hands were small, even smaller than Thana's delicate ones, but he had felt them break an Incarnate's neck. Felt the punishment afterwards. And it had been so _easy..._One moment, the guy was alive and after that sharp sound, Harry knew he had died.

It was different from killing the troll. That had been...impersonal. A spell and then watching events unfold. This time, he felt his hands close on the throat, felt the windpipe give. And it had been an _Incarnate _that died in Thana's dream. Someone who was in control of Time! So very easy with only light burns to show for it.

It boggled the mind.

_And she gave me one of her weaknesses, _he remembered the bracelet and felt a little awed and more than a little suspicious as he clutched the arm it was on close. _I wonder what she could gain from giving it to me..._

Harry stared out into the darkness, letting loose his arm and his mind to run in whatever direction it wished. After a couple of minutes, though, he noticed a pattern. It began with "I'm" and ended in "hungry." He blew out an annoyed breath and Thana murmured something.

"Pardon?" he whispered while turning his head a little, not sure if she was even awake.

The hand by his stomach that had been the cause of the "teddy-bearing" slid up to his chest, her nails snagging on the cloth. "I said," she whispered back clearly. "Are you hungry?"

About a minute ago, Harry had been perfectly fine with the sleeping arrangment. He was twelve, not quite up to speed on social conventions and so thought barely anything of it other than "it feels weird" and "I'm glad everyone's asleep or sick." Now, with the movement of her hand and the very noticeable exhale of warm air on his neck, he felt as if 95 percent of the blood in his body had been drawn to his cheeks. Quite suddenly, it didn't feel so innocent and he fought the urge to roll onto the floor.

"A-a little...maybe..." Harry knew hs face must be glowing. With a light snort, Thana sat up, releasing him and Harry took advantage of the freedom by rolling off the bed. "Oof!"

The Incarnate of Death raised an eyebrow at him, expertly concealing the twitch of pain on her face. "Tense around me, aren't you?"

"You almost killed me..." he evaded while pushing himself up, his head hanging down to hide his burning face. "That's hard to ignore."

"Hmm." Harry was suddenly dangling off the floor by his robe collar. He blinked a few times and hesitantly reached for the floor as if to test that he was really floating above it. He kept reaching out a few times and then his mind caught up.

"Wha-hey! Put me down! Thana!"

"I'll have to decline," her amused voice said from above. She casually shook him from side to side as he sputtered and flailed his arms angrily. "Besides, you need to stay alive for a little while longer."

Harry froze. "What?" As soon as the word left his mouth, his dorm room melted into trailing wisps of white smoke. He let out a small sigh. "Where are we going?" _I'm pretty sure I'm not allowed off school grounds...and if anyone could find out, its Dumbledore, _he thought grimly as an image of himself scrubbing cauldrons by hand with Snape sneering at him 'Thought yourself above the rules, did you? Two hundred and thirty more to go, Potter!'

The Mists vanished and Harry was dropped onto hard pavement. He didn't bother getting up, just propping up his chin on his left hand as he drummed the street with his right hand's fingers. They were still in England, Big Ben in the distance told him that they didn't go that far, just back to London. _Why _though...

"Explain?"

"You didn't think that professor was going to satisfy you forever, did you?" Thana answered easily, oblivous to the boy's suddenly alarmed expression.

"You mean..." he started slowly, drumming fingers grinding to a halt.

The woman rolled her eyes upwards. "Death doesn't give up when it's got a hold on someone but Life exhausts itself." A mocking smirk formed on her lips. "It's only to be expected, I _am _stronger, after all. You need someone else before you start dying again."

"Wait, you want me to kill someone?" Quirrel had been trying to kill him. The late professor had been doing a good job too before whatever happened had happened. The end result was the teacher being dead and Harry had little problems with that...after he had been able to think it through during the rest of the school year and summer. Self defense. But she was talking about a cold blooded murder, something human, with a family. "I don't think I can-"

Thana hauled him to his feet roughly and when he looked, her face looked as if it had been carved from stone. "You're a true necromancer, boy, you should get used to it." She told him bluntly. "There are no comprimises." She pushed him forwards a bit and he stumbled. "Do or die."

At the ultimatum, Harry's features hardened as he slowly turned to face her. "You really ask a lot..."

"Is that so?" she asked airily. "In case it has slipped your mind, Pal isn't here to do you any favours." Thana seemed absolutely convinced that he would give in sooner or later. Harry didn't want to die but just the thought of murdering someone made him sick. Later then, it had to be later.

"Not now," he muttered quietly. "Just...no."

"There's a difference between now and later?" He kept quiet and she rolled her eyes again. "Utterly ridiculous...fine, whatever."

"It's called having morals!"

"It's called being stupid!" She paused. "And suicidal, in your case," she added as an after thought.

"I'm not doing it," Harry repeated stubbornly. Thana opened her mouth, probably to continue arguing with him but cut herself off. Literally biting on her index finger till it bled to keep words from coming out, she gave him a piercing stare that sent a shiver up his spine. His blood was turning into ice again and it was like she could see through him-

_--Don't Death--_ Harry jumped at the sudden whisper and Thana shrugged, holding out her right hand.

"Come on then..." she mumbled around her finger. The boy took cautious steps towards her and hesitantly grasped the offered hand. He was whisked away by the Mists again and this time was let go to stumble back into his own bed. He really needed to learn how to do that, waiting until the professors finally got around to apparition would take too damn long.

His thoughts must have shown up on his face because Thana began to laugh softly. "Later, boy, later."

"You're not mad," was Harry's observation and a familiar, chilling smirk was spreading across her lips.

"Mad? Of course not, it'll be interesting to see how long you hold out. After all," she made a broad sweeping gesture with her hand. "You'll do anything to live. Eventually." Harry scowled but he couldn't exactly deny it. 'Eventually' was the key word. Thana faded from sight with a cocky wave and the boy just sighed to himself. The voice in his head wasn't answering and this time, he knew it was not his fault.

He'd think about this later, he'd-

_No..._His eyebrows furrowed. _Unless I want to be manipulated for the rest of my existence, I better think about it now._ _Starting with this..._

He slipped the bracelet off his arm and immediately began to feel cold to the point of shivering. His breath was coming out in puffs of ice crystals as he stared at the obsidian snake and the dimly glowing ruby eyes. This was Thana's weakness, if she was to be believed. And he had it.

He turned his belated Christmas present around in his hands thoughtfully. It was doing something to him. The cold feeling was enough proof of that. But the question was: what exactly was it doing to him?

And how could he turn this around?

Did he want to?

* * *

"Rotting isn't exactly normal."

"Don't you think I know that, Luna!?"

It was early morning in the Great Hall, so early that the house elves had yet to put out the silverware and plates for breakfast. It was one of the least suspicious and yet most private place Hermione could think of. Ravenclaws were notorious for early morning/late night studying in the library with the passes given to them by Flitwick and conversing in the Commons was just stupid.

Sneaking around the castle trying to find an empty classroom or an uncomfortable broom closet...no. Anyone who found them would be able to tell immediately that they were trying to hide something.

Well, Hermione was trying to hide it. Luna didn't seem to care who knew.

"Aren't you going to tell your Master about it?"

The Gryffindor nodded her head absentmindedly and then jerked her eyes up in shock. "H-how, I mean, who w-w-would..." she abandoned her efforts when the blonde smiled. It wasn't a nice smile, razor thin and conscending.

"It wasn't hard to sense, Harry has little control over it, you know." Hermione stared. "But he did do a decent job making you. Memories intact, fluid movement, sense of self, ability to learn," Luna finished listing casually. The golem in question bristled at being described like an object.

"I'm a living, breathing _person_, thank you very much!" she snapped but Luna kept on smiling.

"No, you're an undead, breathing-out-of-habit, _thing_, thank you!" she sing songed. "I'm sorry, but that's just the way it is."

"And how would you know!?" As soon as the words left her mouth, Luna's smile died and the blonde curled up into herself. Hermione wanted to apologize but she couldn't manage to wrestle the words out of her mouth. So she didn't say anything.

And both of them just sat there until breakfast arrived.

* * *

He was carrying a particularly nasty, horrible, rotten, repulsive, no-good package to the Lovegood household. It was wrapped in at least ten layers of fabrics, maybe eleven or twelve since he might have lost count, that ranged from the relatively inexpensive dragonhide to the rare demiguise fur. The whole ensemble was still rather light, but he could never forget that he had it on him.

But soon, he'd be rid of it.

Uncaring of who saw the crotchety old man with misty blue eyes disappear behind the Lovegood wards, Ollivander marched right up to the front door where he proceeded to pound on it.

"Xenophilius!" he bellowed at the door. "Lovegood, I know you're in there!"

"If that is truly what you know," said a smarmy voice from behind him. "Then I wonder what it means for me to be elsewhere? Unknown, perhaps?" Ollivander turned, rolling his glass eyes in exasperation. "Careful not to dislodge the Spucus on your left eye there. Very touchy creatures."

To the vast majority of the Wizarding world, the Lovegood family were crackpots. Strange in a harmless way and even though their loyalties were always neutral, they were pariahs of the pureblood society. Their family tree was thin and linear as a result but certain individuals knew that no matter what happened, the line would never die out. Cecilia Lovegood, quite some time ago, had attracted the attention of an Incarnate who, in turn, never got bored with them.

"I have little patience for you, Insanity. Let me make my delivery in peace." Ollivander tried to be hopeful but his heart sunk as Xenophilius stepped to the side and opened a door out of mid air.

"Nonsense, sense non. We have all the time in the universe to spare, won't you come in?"

"I don't-"

"I _must _insist." The wand-crafter, inventor and immortal, hesitated. There was only one way off the property and the Incarnate of Insanity was blocking it with his impossible door. An Artifact, he knew it was. Most likely it lead to the Realms and those were places that he avoided at all costs.

"To the house only," he comprimised and Xenophilius pouted.

"Oh, if we must..." The space in between the door frames changed to reflect a cozy living room scene but he held his ground.

"Swear it." In the span of a second, the easy-going and day dreaming face of Insanity was replaced with a thundercloud, terrible and angry. It was a gamble, the Incarnate was more than capable of putting him through a fate worse than Death but Ollivander wasn't stupid. Even just one word from a Greater Being, indicated that they wanted something.

"Insanity invokes the Universe to witness: This door leads only to the inside of the mortal Lovegood home," Xenophilius ground out and from deep within the wand-crafter there was the feeling of a _click!_ A woman's sultry voice began to reverbrate in his head stating,

"Desire stands witness. So mote it be." His blood turned to ice for a fraction of a second and then, satisfied, he stepped through the door. At his back he heard the irritated grumbles of Insanity and he hid a smug smile.

The Lovegood home was a quaint and surprisingly normal looking one. It greatly resembled a log cabin with certain granite fixtures, like the fireplace to give the colouring a dark undertone. The wood was a deep brown and the furniture ranged from dark blues to off-whites. The one faded lilac couch was completely covered with newspaper clippings from something called the Quibbler.

Ah, he remembered that farce of a paper. Still around was it?

He caught sight of one of the magical photos on the mantel: a small girl with light blonde hair, familiar greyish blue eyes who was excitedly trekking through high weeds with a net. At the bottom it read, "Luna, age six." He didn't realize that he was staring at the picture (dragon heart string wand, he remembered) until Insanity picked it up.

"My Chosen, when she hits thirteen," he stated proudly. "It took me eleven generations since Cecilia of careful breeding to produce her mother but the results are worth it."

Ollivander raised an eyebrow, unconsciously clutching his delivery closer. "A Spawn," he stated flatly. "You do realize that's an abomination, don't you?"

Insanity, Luna Lovegood's father, waved his hand around carelessly. "Mortal and immortal, abomination? No, that's perfection, two halves to create a flawless whole. They weren't happy, of course." He didn't have to say who "They" was. "But there was little they could do, even now. Sometimes Death turned a blind eye and in others she didn't but who understands that woman anyway?"

"Who indeed," Ollivander muttered and tossed his package onto the newspaper covered couch. "I wasn't about to wait for you to pay a visit."

"Come now!" The Incarnate's smile was so wide that it threatened to split his face in half. It was razor thin and just a tad conscending, like the other immortal was an illiterate child. "Don't you want to know what it is?"

"I made it," he shot back as he began to search for the front door. "I know."

"This wand can kill Death," Insanity drawled slyly. He stopped searching. "In the right hands, of course. The only fact you do know is whose hands those are. You made a prediction, am I right?"

_"Terrible things..._" he recited for his own benefit. The extent to which his own words were haunting him was astounding. But wait a minute... "You sided with Always, why would you have this?"

"My dear Thaddeus...you should know better!" he crowed happily as he spun around on his toes. "After all, you sided with Truth but in the end, you killed his Incarnation. Remember, cheater?"

"Thanatos won't stand for it," he warned as he shoved the painful reminder down but all he got was a wider smile until it really did split Xenophilius' face in half. The lips were literally stretching from ear to ear as the eyes glinted with cheerful malice.

"Oh? But you see, there's this boy..."

* * *

"I'm G-ginny Weasley...I, um, I live by Luna in St. Ottery...I have six brothers..."

_Six? _Harry thought absently. _Good Lord. _

Draco was still being held captive by the Hospital Wing, Hermione was avoiding him for some reason, no matter how many times he poked his 'other' self wouldn't talk to him, Thana was currently absent and the only reliable book he could find on necromancers (without delving into the Restricted section) was a Ministry biased one that portrayed him as a monster. The appearance of the glaring Ronald Weasley and his sister just made his morning even worse.

Weasley, the female one, was a completely different person. She was more animated, actually seemed nervous talking to him and for once didn't have a death grip on that book.

Harry eyed it. It was even more ratty looking up close with the color on the book's edges worn away by frequent handling, the pages were yellowed and crinkly and from what he could see of the spine it read-

His eyes narrowed and he nonchalantly took off his glasses.

Ginny looked to be on the verge of keeling over from starvation. What had once been a talkative girl was now little more than skin and bones. Her hair was missing in clumps, her mouth shriveled and cracked and her sunken eyes burned silver. The dim shape of an ankh, a winged cross with a loop on the top, was on her forehead. The book was still a book. Still tattered, still black with still gold lettering but where he had once seen _T M Ridd-_

It read _Book of L-_

He put his glasses back on.

"A-are you alright?" Weasley asked timidly and Harry grunted.

"Headache." He lied as he reached over and plucked the book from her hands. He kept hold of it for about two seconds until pain exploded at his right cheek. Before he even knew what was happening, he was on the floor with both his cheek and the back of his head throbbing. Ronald was yelling something that sounded like, "Knocked you flat, Potter!" and he came to the conclusion that Weasley, the female one, had hit him.

"Ginerva Molly Weasley!" That sounded like Pince. "What in Merlin's name were you thinking!?"

The red headed girl was once again holding the book in close, eyes cold and jaw set. "Leaving," she said flatly and without looking back, she pushed her way out the door. Straightening himself up irritatedly, Harry sat once again at the table and continued reading through his book like nothing had happened. Ronald and his few friends had tried to rile him up by taunting him (about being hit by a girl of all things, Thana cured him of that) but soon became bored and left.

The Library became silent again just in time. With a slight stinging sensation, Harry's sickle shaped scar opened up and began to bleed.

"Shit," he swore as a few red droplets fell on the table. Head wounds bled copiously and if this couldn't heal...

Pomfrey.

He closed the book and began to jog his way down the Hospital Wing. He figured he must look like a right fright with blood running down his face. Maybe the fact that he had been hurt would quell the rumours? He snorted and promptly tripped over a body.

He knew it was a body the moment his foot touched it because it was the impact gave off a muffled thud, it was soft and yet too firm to lose shape. It felt just like tripping over a person except this one didn't flinch or make a sound when hit. On his knees (he really was ending up on the floor a lot lately) he looked back.

Hufflepuff robes. Looked like a Second Year.

Dead.

The sudden compulsion to bring the boy back washed over Harry like a tidal wave. The Rose was pushing, straining and stretching something in his head. His eye sight blurred into tunnel vision and then he was outside of his body. Watching himself reach behind his shoulder and grab the flowery hilt of Life's Artifact. He reached out to stop himself from pulling it out-

And then he was back. Frozen in the act, horribly stiff and looking dead in the gold eyes of something large.

There was the sound of a quill scratching on old paper.

"Sorry, Potter." Weasley.

_Fuck,_ Harry thought as he struggled to move.

His whisper made itself known for the first time today with less than good news. _--Double fuck--_

He was getting cold, from his feet the chill was slowly traveling up as the luminescent gold eyes moved away. The coldness paused at his bracelet but eventually swept down to his hands and to the tips of his fingers. Across his chest it spread, it was getting hard to breathe, and then up his neck, over his mouth, his nose...

And then darkness.

* * *

The paint brush clattered to the decaying earth as Hel stared at her greying right arm in wonder. Nearby, Tyr's strumming on the guitar suddenly hit a harsh and extremely loud note.

In Sparta, Kring continued to flex his suddenly stiff fingers and in Tartarus, Thanatos sighed as her right arm turned to stone. "Idiot boy."

In the Chamber, underneath Hogwarts castle, Palquenta stiffened momentarily and then vomited out blood.

* * *

Delay, delay, delay..sorry, hit a patch of writers block. I don't like this chapter but everyone has been waiting for long enough! It's a bit longer than usual to kind of, maybe, hopefully make up for it.


	12. The Second Step

**_I encourage reviews of any type._**

**Harry Potter and the Breath of Life**

_"I can't do this anymore. The days have been wearing at me for years now. It's become a horrific routine and I can feel myself fading away. I no longer need to sleep, I don't know when that happened but by using the local population of rodents, I have eliminated the need for food as well. I will not detail the process, let it rest. I see things out of the corner of my eyes, hear sounds and voices when I'm alone and I have taken to simply keeping my mouth shut. There is no telling what will come out should I attempt to speak. Rowena understands, Godric doesn't know yet and Salazar has left. To calm down, he told us, to prepare but I was this close to killing him. If he ever gets it into his head to overtake Hogwarts, our school, then I will. I am not fit to be a teacher, for those that find themselves in my House, wear the badger with pride." - Excerpt from Notes on True Necromancy by Helga Sarah Hufflepuff_

* * *

"I heard that Potter went missing yesterday."

At the word 'Potter' her head jerked upwards. She couldn't help it, both her and Life had interest in that person. Ever since she was little, she had been awed by Harry Potter. A boy just one year older than her who defeated the Dark Lord. He lost his parents, everyone knew about the Potters, but that left Harry as the sole heir to the Potter wealth and a hero. She never got tired of hearing his story and often dreamed of Harry Potter, messy black hair, emerald eyes and handsome being _her _hero. She knew she wasn't the only one to have this dream and believed that she did not have a good chance.

It _would_ be nice, if the prince would take notice of the common girl but this was life, not a witch's tale. Some other girl, a pureblood like Greengrass, would snatch him and Ginny Weasley would be left out in the cold. Once she accepted that fact, Life had told her, then she would do much better.

And she was doing better!

Potter, through some twist of fate, was a Slytherin and she was a Gryffindor like the rest of her family. Going after him would just cause problems in the long run as everyone knew that Slytherins were Dark. There was just too great of a chance of the boy hero becoming the next Dark Lord, he could even speak to snakes! As long as she kept her mind of him, she was able to do well in school and she didn't need anyone else other than Life. If asked, she probably couldn't explain why this mysterious person was so important to her, she just was.

Life was perfect. Ginny was infinitely envious of her blonde hair, blue eyes and she could swear that Life's freckles were a lot cuter than her own! Each time she met Life face to face, it was like she was in some kind of dream. The meetings acted like dreams too and were often hazy or fuzzy a day later. Not that it mattered much, she was just thankful that someone was there for her.

In the Gryffindor Commons, seated on the couch in front of the fireplace, Ginny reopened the tattered black book. Almost immediately cursive writing with economic loops seeped through the page in silver ink.

_You lost your patience, _it read. _What happened?_

Removing her quill from behind her ear, she quickly scribbled in _He tried to take the book._

_I see. That is rather inexcusable. Nothing happened to you, correct?_

Ginny's lips twitched upwards. Life was always understanding and more supportive than her own mother! _I'm fine. _Seh paused in writing, trying to remember what happened after she stomped out of the Library but it was just a haze of images. None of them made any real sense. _I think I ran into Justin, that Hufflepuff but I took care of it._

She had, hadn't she? She couldn't remember what she said but there was a feeling of contentment in her whenever she thought about it, so it must have been something witty.

The writing this time was a little shaky and she knew that Life was laughing. _I'm sure you did, love._

_Do you know something I don't? _she mock pouted and knew that Life could tell when she was teasing. It was just another thing that was great about her pen pal, it was like the woman knew everything about Ginny. She didn't have to explain herself, ever.

_Accusing me of keeping secrets? Shame on you. But, you do have a mouth on you whenever you feel so inclined. I can just imagine you ripping the poor boy to shreds!_

Ginny's smile grew and, on impulse, she hurriedly scratched a slanted, _I love you _onto the crinkled, yellow page. There was a pause after the ink disappeared from sight and then, hesitantly, she got a response.

_I know. For what it is worth, you are a very dear child. _A longer pause. _I'm sorry._

_It's ok! Re- _Quite suddenly, she was writing on air. Confused, she looked up and saw Ron there, holding a familiar book in his hands up to the light.

"A diary? You sure do write in this old thing a lot, sis," he ignorantly stated. Ginny stared up at him blankly for a moment and then realized that he had her book. He had her book. _He had the book! _Ginny stood up and a strange little half-smile oozed onto her lips. Ron was still standing there, oblivious as her eyes flashed silver. A bit too calmly for what she was feeling, she took the book from him. "Alright, alright, don't tell me," he pouted.

Ginny shrugged and pushed her brother into the fire.

* * *

In actuality Ewah, the Incarnate of Insanity, had been involved with the Lovegood line for far longer than Burwright knew. From Merlin's time (pesky meddler) onward, he had been fascinated with mortals. Even before he became immortal, people interested him. What made them tick, why did they turn out the way did, they had so much potential! So he began to experiement. He took a nameless mortal (couldn't remember anymore) and would arrange events in his life and observed the effect it had on his children.

He didn't know when it was...but sometime ago he had found out that Thanatos had been immortal since birth. Krun had trained her up to be the next Death but anyone could see that her core personality was a bit too rebellious to be suppressed for long. It was his next project, a goal to his studies, a perfect Insanity Incarnate. Insanity had found the concept attractive and so it started.

He arranged the quirky personality through numerous behavioural checks. Was someone too fatalistic? Remove them (sometimes Death interfered but after Osiris, she meddled less). Too happy? Stage a tradegy and so on. Genetic traits were easier, it was simply a matter of pushing the right people together. If they got too stubborn, it was easy enough to arrange a rape. Desire never cared what her other Artifacts were used for, so long as he did not touch the Mirror. Once in a while he ran across someone who the Weave and Fate had a tight grip on but he worked around it with time. Once established, the family basically ran itself. There were a couple of false starts but Insanity made sure he killed the Spawn before they got too old.

But Luna, she was perfect. Brilliance and quite capable of carrying on his studies when he stepped down. It was a bit unfortunate that being a Spawn should she ever die, the Weave would erase all trace of her existence, but there was nothing he could do about that. Not yet anyway.

It was as Plague said, for his greatest achievment to just fade from sight like that would be a real shame. Unforgiveable even.

* * *

_It was dark here. There was no light beside the faint glow that was coming from his body and even that light abruptly ended several inches out._

_It was too dark and there was nothing but himself in this place._

_Where was he, anyway?_

_"Hello?" he called out and heard it echo. How could it? There were no walls for the sound to bounce off of. "Anyone there?"_

_"I here ya."_

_Startled, he turned around and standing a little ways off was a girl. He knew her. Long black hair and heterochromatic eyes of blue and gold. She was smiling in a mysterious 'I know something you don't know' kind of way as she rocked back and forth on her heels, hands clasped behind her back. She was a little taller than he remembered her, almost dead even in height now._

_He raised a hand in greeting. "Hi, didn't see you."_

_Her smile grew wider. "Of course you didn't. Don't you recognize where you are?"_

_"Um, no? There's nothing here."_

_A slighty puzzled expression appreared on her face. "Hmm..." He watched as she squatted where she stood and stretched a hand out towards him. "Well, come on out. You don't look like you're going anywhere."_

_Confused, he reached out and the lower half of his body was suddenly wet. "What the-" He was standing in a river. The water was dark and the girl was now reaching out to him from a black sand shore. It was familiar. "This is..." He looked behind him and he could just make out the outline of an obsidian throne. "It's Tartarus."_

_The girl laughed at him as he took her hand. "Where else would you go when you die?"_

_He paused in the act of climbing out onto the beach. "I'm dead?"_

_"Well," she tilted her head to the right. "I think so..." She gave a stronger pull and he spilled out into the sand. "But then again, you can come out of my River. I can't imagine someone ending up in there by mistake though..." He just grunted as he turned over onto his back._

_"Story of my life."_

_Snorting, she also fell backwards onto her butt next to him. For a minute, both children stared up into the expanse of white that passed as the sky in Tartarus. "Hey," she spoke up suddenly. "Want to see something cool?" He raised an eyebrow and she gave him a cheeky grin. "Watch this." He blinked and was suddenly standing in outer space. _

_"...the fuck?" he murmured as he stared around at galaxies, stars, asteroids and planets all moving around him. The girl was giving him an expectant eyebrow lift and all he could do was grin goofily. He was in space. That was pretty awesome, no ifs, ands or buts about it. "Where are we?"_

_"It's just a vision of Everything, Always keeps something like this in his Throne all the time." He was a bit put off by how casually she dismissed it but he guessed that she probably saw it a lot more often than he had. But still...something in him was upset, disappointed maybe about her words. Almost like she offended him but he didn't know why that would be._

_"Make something."_

_"Huh?" He gave her a weird look as she waved her hands impatiently._

_"This isn't what I wanted to show you, you have to make something to get it. Like a star or something."_

_"And how do you expect me to do that!?" In answer she reached out and flexed her fingers as if she was grasping something. As she tightened the fist, her hand started to glow. A second later, her fingers snapped open with a hiss of pain._

_"Hot, hot, hot..." she hopped around. He stared at the small ball of light that was now bobbing in the vacuum of space. A star. It didn't take long for the small thing to deteriorate and disperse back into subatomic particles but he wanted to try. Reaching out both hands, he tried collecting something but after three tries was getting nothing. _

_"You're doing it wrong." He gave her an irritated glare but she neatly side stepped it to grab his hands. "You have to focus on creating something, not putting stuff together. Look, just-" he tuned her out as something clicked in his head. He created something before, hadn't he? He reached out and this time, he could feel something between his hands. 'You're still doing it wrong!" he heard the girl say but he ignored her. This was right, he knew it was. Draw, collect, compress...he squezed his hands together and...release. A ball of light popped out._

_The girl coughed. "Fine, show off."_

_He grinned. She looked cute pouting like that, biting on her index finger. "Thana."_

_"What?" she snapped at him and then her eyes widened. "You remember!" A second later she was poking him in the chest with a tiny scowl. "You took off that bracelet, you shouldn't even be here much less remembering."_

_"Story of my life," he quipped again. Before she could get even more annoyed with him, he leaned in and kissed her. It was short, practically a one second peck on the lips but it was..._

_Well, it was nice._

_He pulled back quickly and watched her face for any sign of danger. She was just staring at him, mouth opening and closing like a fish and quickly turning a bright red. "Y-y-y-you..." she sputtered but couldn't get any further. "Y-y-you..." He leaned in again but this time, his lips met air. He caught himself before he fell flat on his face. Where'd she-_

_"You're late." He looked and it was himself. Only older, much older and...harder. Colder. He was straight backed and had his hands clenched into fists at his sides. There was the same messy black hair, only in another cut, and green eyes but there was this strange lightning shaped scar on his forehead. The boy's eyes kept wandering back up to it._

_"Late?" he asked quietly, still staring at that scar, and the man smiled thinly._

_"Had fun?"_

* * *

It had gone too far. Beyond too far. It was as if he could look over his shoulder and see the 'too far' line miles away in the distance. He had sworn-he had sworn that-! Fawkes! The Chamber! With some effort, Albus Dumbledore managed to calm himself by locking it all away behind his Occulemency walls. Potter, the boy, he was missing. Without Hogwarts' sentient wards, there was no way of knowing where the boy had gone. It was just like that time, before he ever started Hogwarts. The tracking spells had never worked and ever since that time, the charm designed to keep track of his health wasn't responding.

How long had this been going on, how long was the boy able to just get up and disappear while he thought that everything was under control!?

"Albus, he's slipping!"

Absently, he shifted his grip. That was the entire problem wasn't it? This entire time he had been treating Potter like the boy he should have been instead of the pawn he was. An easy mistake to make, he was sure but it wasn't making him feel any better. This wasn't like _that _time, it wasn't a matter of 'leave me alone and I'll leave you alone.' Something was happening, shifting balances he-

"Albus!" He looked up sharply at the alarm in Poppy's tone and his feverish eyes came to rest on a cloaked figure, blocking the gate. Well, it was leaning against the gate but he knew that hindering their progress was the intention. He drew his wand.

"You are not looking well, Headmaster." His eyes narrowed as he recognized the voice. It couldn't be, could it?

"Narcissa, my dear, what are you doing?" The woman shook her hood off and he could feel Poppy tense beside him.

"What is the meaning of this!?"

"Until the challenge is done," the aristocratic woman stated with a sardonic smile, "none of the pieces may leave." At the word, "challenge" Albus went pale and clutched his wand ever tighter. Challenge, who? A moment later he bit his tongue to keep from swearing. Who else? Potter.

"I don't know what you think you are trying to pull, but we have a student who is _dying_ here!" A few fat tears were making their way down the medi-witch's cheeks and he knew it hurt. He had been asking a lot of her over the past few months, it was the only way to keep things quiet and now it seemed that he had grossly miscalculated. A Hufflepuff was gone, Justin Finch-Fletchley. Muggleborn, thankfully, but that only meant that time was running out.

"Student?" Narcissa almost sneered the word.

Poppy drew herself up. "You-! I'll have you know that this boy is pureblooded for all the good that does anyone! It-"

The blonde woman cut her off with an unladylike snort. "I can care less about issues of blood purity. I know the boy, Theodore Nott, am I correct? Until the challenge is done, " she began to repeat, "none of the pieces may leave."

With a sharp snap of his wand, Albus transfigured the ground into a large mud golem. Overkill it may be but there was little time to waste. He knew that there was no way to really reverse the strange permanent wounds and illnesses but he had the theory that it only affected those withint Hogwarts grounds. As long as he had that loop hole (he had tested it but unfortunately Fawkes was too weak to be moved), there was no need to rush.

But if they couldn't leave...

With another fast flick he animated it but when it came to actually getting it to move against his former student, it might as well have been a tonne of rocks. Instead of obeying him, it fell to pieces along with a frigid blast of coldness that swept through his body. A genuine smile replaced Narcissa's cruel one.

"Gil." Albus blinked at the affectionate way she said the word. "Always punctual."

The newcomer looked like a foreigner with strangely greyish hair even though he looked young and despite popping in from nowhere, the tell-tale crack of displaced air was missing. Solemnly, he handed the young Nott over to Poppy and got into a battle ready stance. There was just no telling-

"Albus Dumbledore." Narcissa nodded to him as if they were friends and entwined her hand with the stranger's. "Gilgamesh, Greater Being."

Quite suddenly, instead of his wand, it felt like he was holding nothing more than a brittle twig.

* * *

Thanatos opened her eyes and spent anywhere from five minutes to a couple of hours just staring up. She had been confused before. The feeling of missing something, being puzzled, baffled, bewildered, etc had become almost common place since she had first been shut out of the Weave a decade ago. But now she was faced with a mystery she wasn't sure if she even wanted it solved.

_He remembered..._

_And..._

Always Ever Changing this was going to drive her nuts, she could tell. She turned her head a bit and could clearly see out the corner of her eye, the shimmering form of the boy she had pulled out of her River. He was like his mother, remembering when they weren't supposed to, she'd never forget how Lily Potter fought against the tide. It still amazed her though that Harry, _her _Harry (that was important), had remembered her.

But...it felt weird looking at him. Awkward now, so she moved her head back until she couldn't see him anymore. But she knew he was there and in a couple of minutes it was getting uncomfortable being in the same Realm as him. She didn't know where she was going to go, but Jumped anyway, trusting her unconscious mind to pick a place.

It brought her to Eros.

"Back again," Adi-Mailagu, Incarnate of Desire said plainly and there wasn't much Thana could do besides nod. "What is it that you want?"

She was about to say 'nothing' but caught herself. "Would you..." the words got stuck in her throat and she could feel her face get warm. _Why the hell am I so embarrassed now? _"I mean, just...kiss me?"

Desire raised an eyebrow and Thana squeezed her eyes shut. _Don't ask why, don't ask why, don'taskwhy..._ And then Adi's lips were against hers. It was...soft was the word that came to her mind. Soft fit. Adi had kissed her before but this was the first time she was actually thinking about it (or had asked, for that matter. Adi could be kind of pushy). And it was missing...something. Thana had no idea what it was she was hoping for but it wasn't there.

"That was longer," was the first thing she blurted after Adi's tongue left her mouth.

"Than what?" It was the first time Thana could remember Desire actually looking confused and she fought the urge to cry out 'Got cha!'

"And it felt different," she said instead, avoiding the question unsubtly. It didn't seem to make a difference because Desire's acid yellow eyes lit up in realization.

"Ah."

"Ah?"

"Well since you are here, would you mind fixing my Mirror?" Thana gave her a look but shrugged. It wasn't like she had anything better to do and she wasn't going to go back to Tartarus just yet. She turned towards the gigantic oval mirror and felt a pang. It was the equivalent of having her own Throne smashed and she had left Adi to deal with it for almost a year.

"I never apologised for this did I?" she mused as she tilted her head.

Adi raised an eyebrow again, this time looking at her like it was the first time she was seeing her. "Apologize?"

"Yeah, well," Thana jerked her petrified arm at the mess of glass shards and the empty frame. "Sorry." Desire caught the arm before she could return it to her side and ran her fingers over it.

"Thanatos...you poor thing..."

She yanked her arm away, a hair's breadth from snarling. "Don't you pity me, no one pities Death." Adi didn't speak but her eyes said enough. Thana reached out and pulled all lingering influences of Death on the mirror into herself. Immediately, the glass shards quivered and then shot up into place, melding together to form a flawless Mirror of Erised, complete with their distorted reflections. Work done, she should have left five minutes ago.

"Thanatos..."

"I said don't pity me! I'm not an invalid, geez. It's just-"

"You Remember, don't you?" Thana froze for only a moment. Adi...didn't know when to leave things alone. Really, asking if she remembered being mortal right off the bat like that, no tact whatsoever...

"No," Thana lied.

* * *

I don't really know what to say other than the end of the challenge is coming up. I wonder how many people are still reading this..? Eh, anyway, I hope no one was too annoyed with the Ginny section of the chap. As this story is mostly centered around Harry and Thana's viewpoints, there is plenty of stuff going on that neither know about. That being said, what's up with Eternity? Dumbledore vs Gilgamesh, who saw that coming? And Insanity is...interesting...

I just realized that this is my second long chapter...hopefully I'll be able to keep the length up...


	13. Harry the Quorxat

_**I encourage reviews of any type.**_

**Harry Potter and the Breath of Life**

_"He was a stately looking man, presumably of pure blood origin, with firey hair and almost unnaturally glowing green eyes. I don't know who could have told him of my interests but every day, always when the last ray of sunlight had just vanished, he was at the front door and the tales that came with him were riveting. The truth behind myths and legends, knowledge thought lost to Time, hidden locales and, underneath it all, was a promise of power. To avoid seeming desperate, I must admit that I tried to offer presents of fine wines, manuscripts and the like. He turned them down with an easy smile, we were almost friends. I went so far as to invite him to my daughter's union but he got so depressed at the mention that I didn't expect him to show. And indeed, he didn't. As the sun fell the day after, it wasn't him at the door, but a girl of around ten with hair the colour of molten gold and virbrant blue eyes to deliver a message: He's gone. And then she vanished right before my very eyes." -Translated by Ebediah Dumbledore, notes believed to have been penned by a scholar of early Greece_

* * *

No one except the Weaver could explain why this was, not even Truth's visions reached this far into the universe's bag of secrets, but something happened when a living thing made a transition between mortal and immortal. A process that changed them from inside out into something more than different, the first thing to change was the scope of their thoughts. A normal mortal would think in terms of space: the immediate surroundings, their nation, their planet. A mortal would think in terms of value and they thought of seeking a purpose for their life, a reason for their existence. They create for worth, sentimental value exists for them and perhaps it is a good thing that mortals don't live for very long.

Incarnates might or might not notice things about them changing: getting paler, eyes changing color (or in some cases, losing them entirely), becoming thinner or fatter, etc. They made a distinction between what they considered their "true" form and the mortal body that the more powerful Incarnates were capable of reverting back to. Everything changed, sometimes their names changed with them, and in the end the _thing _that was left was little like the original.

The concept was something along the lines of Forgetting, no one spoke of it so an actual name might not exist. It was an accepted facet of their existence, Famine was currently going through it. No Incarnate worried about him getting attached to the mortal world he often visited, as in time they knew that one day he would simply stop. They had all gone through similar experiences. Now if, for some reason, afterwards he started to interact with mortals, then there would be concern.

There was something about being among mortals that made them feel...something. Was it their endless struggle against Time that made them so interesting? Their diverse range of behaviours? The nonsensical attachments to people, places, things that they had?

Not many stop to think about it. What did it matter? the Incarnates just..._were_ and that was all. The Truth. Or the Truth as the Incarnate of Truth warned the Incarnate of Life.

Osiris had never been one to listen to Truth and over the marked span of a decade, he became something...more and at the same time less. No one knew how quite to describe it, at one moment he was just like the others. And then he would say something, like 'it's my favorite color' and leave them blinking in confusion. Or he would do something, like preserve the very last of a mortal species as immortals in his Realm, and remind them of just how different he was. The Weaver demanded that he be made to conform but since it was rather obvious that Death was fond of him, they left it alone. It wasn't disrupting anything.

Osiris picked up a Chosen rather suddenly, he had given no indication of wanting to move on, but they thought little of it. It would take at least an extra century to teach the girl everything she needed to know about being the Opposite to Death's rather abrasive personality. About two hundred years in total.

He took two months.

And then killed himself by wading into the River Styx. The Artifact whisked him away to Judgment before Death's very eyes.

Immortals were built for handling Everything, mortals were not. Visions of Everything, which the Incarnates took for granted, would kill a mortal outright. They were simply too frail and the Incarnates realised that forgetting that fraility, forgetting about living was the only way to protect themselves from their own minds. There were no illusions as an Incarnate. You did only what you were supposed to do, there was no luck, no coincedence, the Weave was dictating everything even if you didn't know what it was spelling out. Such silly notions like 'hope'...he was looking at an Eternity of an empty existence. Simply being wasn't enough for him but there was little else he could be.

What he knew as an immortal had been warring with what he had once known as a mortal.

He wanted to live but couldn't. He must have felt...trapped, hanging there in the middle, having only one way out. Once immortal, you were either immortal or dead. He couldn't go back, couldn't ever go back so he ended it.

Afterwards, they called this act, this ritualistc destruction of what they were made to be, Remembering.

Thanatos had been mortal for all of three minutes after her birth. There wasn't much for her to Remember but against her will, she was learning.

Palquenta had been mortal for ten years.

And for several thousand years, she never Forgot.

* * *

Palquenta missed her Tree. It was large, comforting, warm and was her primary Artifact. Within its leaves, it held the largest portion of the power Life naturally bled off and being away from it for so long...she was beginning to think that it physically hurt. It had always been there for her and even if she couldn't hear Life speak, there was something about her Tree that she loved.

The underbelly of the Hogwarts castle was nothing compared to Zion but she couldn't go anywhere else.

She had done many things to degrade herself: willingly surrendered an Artifact to Death's boy, channeled Death through herself, was smack dab in the middle of a Dead Zone without permission and was in the process of taking a life. The last would be the final blow. Hel, strangely enough, hadn't wanted her to go through with it but from the moment her Thana had lead this boy to her Realm, Pal had made up her mind.

Some things were just hard to do.

"Life?" she whispered in the dank darkness as she watched over a statue of a boy, frozen in the act of drawing something from his back. "I'm sorry."

She didn't hear anything and she didn't expect to but a weight had been lifted off her chest all the same. Her Rose was here, the boy was here and it wouldn't take long for Thanatos, her Opposite, to be here as well. It was only a matter of Time.

Soon it would all be over.

* * *

_"Had fun?" There was something about those two words, or maybe it was just the way they had been said, that curled Harry's lip. He didn't have the stature to look intimidating, but as the boy drew himself up, there was the faint glimmer of a presence around him that sent the corners of the stranger's mouth downwards. The vision of Everything had disappeared, to be replaced with a blank zone, filled with swirling grey wisps of smoke._

_"I did, actually," he sneered. "What does it matter to you?"_

_Starting to pace with his hands clasped behind his back, the man thought out loud, "It wasn't supposed to happen like **that**, I'm not Mystery, dang it, how was I supposed to know-?" He stopped and turned to face Harry with a dumb founded look on his face. "And cripes, your **twelve**, how the holy heck-" He paused thoughtfully. "It's not going to be fun when you hit puberty, is it?"_

_Slightly offended, Harry snapped out, "Explain?"_

_For some reason, the man looked a little hesitant, his face shifting through terror, regret, sadness before settling on a complicated mixture of affection and loathing. "In a few years, you aren't supposed to exist."_

_A lump of cold ice suddenly formed in Harry's stomach. A few years...grow up a bit...? "W-who is?" His voice cracked._

_"I am. You can call me Eternity," he finished with a mocking, sweeping bow. "I must admit though, you're fun to be around."_

_"She was going to replace me...?"_

_"She doesn't know," Eternity cut in before the clouds of doom and gloom could finish manifesting over the boy's head. "Truth isn't her strong point, for obvious reasons. Unfortunately, I didn't look before I leaped. I don't want to find another, but Fate has quite the grip on you. Ever heard of a Born?" The boy shook his head 'no.' "Well, its an immortal creature, a phoenix, a thestral, a grim that seperates a prophecy from a Prophecy." The capital letter could almost be heard in his voice. "I've noticed you staring..."_

_Harry turned his head and flushed._

_"Aren't you curious what this," he tapped his lightning bolt scar, "is at all?"_

_"I'll bite...what is it?"_

_"It's a link," the man started solemnly. "It's a weakness, it's a Thread of Prophecy, it's a destiny...Death's power stopped your soul from dying by bringing this piece here but its up to you to break free completely. She can't do any more, you're starting to walk, Harry. Congradulations, now hop to it!"_

_"Hop to what!?" Harry half shouted, almost deperately. The only person who had almost seemed willing to actually give him answers was now being irritatingly vague. "Where is here, piece of what, what's going on?"_

_"Where...is...here?" The man repeated languidly, looking upwards as he tapped his chin. "Funny you should ask..." With a start, Harry found that he could see through Eternity and on the other side was a vast expanse of stars. "Don't you recognize it?"_

_The darkness was sudden._

_"Hello?" Harry called out as he moved about in what seemed to be absolutely nothing...there was no light save for a dim glow hovered to only about an inch off his form. There was nothing to feel, nothing to taste, nothing to hear but the sound of his own echoing voice..._

_"Anybody here?"_

_No one answered the call this time._

_"Anybody?"_

* * *

One man's justice was another man's crime. She fit that to a tee.

Everyone had their own illusions of what Justice meant. Often it boiled down into some moral argument over what constituted as "right" and "wrong," "bad" or "good," "fair" and "unfair" without realizing that the words they used were as unstable as the air it took to shape them. There was no such thing as "morals." There was only what you were and were not willing to do for an ambition. What would it take to reach a goal? What were you willing to sacrifice for it? Did you want it badly enough? Why should you get it, and not someone else? Did you believe, with ever fiber of your being, that you _deserved_ whatever it was you were going for?

In this way, Justice favoured the fanatics. Those that were willing to do anything for their cause had an ally in her. At the beginning, she had more than happy to aid Death bring about the destruction of Everything as they knew it. Now, she could tell that Thanatos was beginning to waver in her resolve, she was changing something.

And it was disgusting.

"Verily I say thus, it would be better for us all if thou were to eliminate him." She watched Thanatos' head move just enough for her to see the far corner of her lips and one pale blue eyes.

"I've come quite a ways, stopping now isn't an option," the other Incarnate remarked flippantly. The shimmering form of a boy had his head in her lap as she traced a sickle shaped scar. "Besides, this one is rather low maintenance." This was said with more than a hint of sarcasm.

"Death loathes him, of this thou are aware," Justice observed casually and Thanatos snorted.

"Yes, well, Death is rather selfish." The beginnings of an odd smile were flickering onto Thanatos' face, as if she discovered some hidden Truth in what she had just said. "I expected Hel to comment, but you too? I'm losing my touch."

Justice could figure out what the woman meant, even if she didn't understand the saying. What did touch have to do with this conversation? After a moment, she decided not to bring her ignorance to light.

"All have noticed that thou art weaker than before," Thanatos scoffed but didn't deny it, "Famine is of the belief that thou art also rejecting thy true nature."

Death Incarnate nodded lazily but then she blinked, sitting up straighter as something caught her attention. "What do you mean 'also?'"

"Life," was the simple answer.

_"I knew it!_" Thanatos exploded. _"I fucking knew it!_" Her voice dropped off into a vicious snarl. _"Oh, she wouldn't **dare...**_" Justice watched in detached amusement as the woman turned to the boy on her lap and started shaking him. "Alright, boy, play time over! Come on! Wake up!"

"Awake, he will not. Art thou truly so blind to thy own influence?" She gave Oblivion's Gate a meaningful glance.

"Morgan..." Thanatos gritted through her teeth, blue eyes flashing dangerously. If she bothered to look closer, Justice might have noticed a faint golden sheen in them. "Kindly shut up."

"Eternity is but a fake, a pale imitation," she continued anyway. "What would thou do?" There was a cold silence and for a moment, Justice was sure that Thanatos was going to kill her. It was an uncomfortable realization, she had killed Time with hardly a second thought, after all. Justice, like every other Incarnate, had never really considered the possibility of dying without their consent. Now, it was staring her in the face.

"Weaver has stopped me before, right?" Not quite following the train of thought, Justice nodded. "That means she and Fate are stronger than Death, right?"

Again, a nod.

"Then that settles it. Let's see what happens when I _don't _play along..." With that cryptic message, Thanatos closed her hand around the boy's throat and hesitated.

"_Neither can live while the other survives_," Justice intoned softly. With a sigh, her amethsyst eyes fluttered shut. "Thou art willing to test it."

"Always Ever Changing," Thanatos muttered sourly, ignoring Justice's rather violent flinch at the word 'Always.' "Did everyone _but_ me know what the hell was going on with Potter?"

Justice didn't see it fit to answer and a second later, she didn't have to. A loud, grinding _crack!_ split the air. Even though his head now lolled to the side fluidly, the boy didn't even twitch. "It would appear that Death transcends the Prophecy."

"Nope..." Thantos was watching the body with a strange intensity. Pain had been on her face but it had soon been replaced with a glimmer of knowing, a healthy amount of surprise and a dash of...not quite lust but close enough. "No, Eternity is still there," Thanatos began in an excited whisper, growing more amused with every word. "Boy's not dead yet, imagine that."

* * *

No, Harry Potter wasn't dead although at the moment, he sure felt like he was. It completely went against everything he knew the after life to be like (namely, with a Thana and a certain River) so he knew that he wasn't 100 percent dead...if that made any sense at all...

_Hermione! _Harry hissed at the back of the girl's head. She and Luna were in the Library and he had noticed with no small amount of concern that her entire right arm was covered in bandages. _Hermione! Please tell me you can hear me!_ Either the Gryffindor truly could not hear him, or she was doing a bang up job of completely ignoring him.

Luna, on the other hand, was staring right at him.

Hermione noticed. "God, what is it now, Luna?"

"Hmm?" The blonde blinked languidly even as a tiny frown appeared. "Oh, just a Quorxat." Anticipating the question, Luna elaborated. "It's a rare creature that lives in people's heads and makes them stutter."

"Riiiight..."

Harry could have kissed Luna at that moment. While it didn't explain how he got to be wandering around the castle like a ghost when he had been in this strange darkness barely five minutes ago, it did tell him where to go next. To the Hospital Wing! As he floated along, Harry was justifying himself. He and Draco, they were almost like best mates, weren't they? The blond boy had invited him over for Christmas and everything...

In the Hospital Wing, literally strapped into the bed, the young Malfoy was raging.

"The Halloween Feast is _today_, I can't miss it! Do you hear me!? Let me out this instant, woman!" McGonagall gave him a disdainful look, and then disappeared behind the curtain. "Get back-!" The blond suddenly shivered, biting down so quickly that there was an audible _click!_

Harry quickly took a step back.

"What in Merlin's name...was that?"

_Malfoy?_ the black haired boy ventured.

Suspiciously, Malfoy glanced around his corner. His face was paler than Harry remembered it, thinner too and red was showing through the gauze wrapped around the boy's hands. "Potter?"

He clamped down on the urge to start dancing in joy. _Look, I need your help with something..._

Seemingly ignoring the fact that Potter's voice was coming out of thin air, Malfoy nodded imperiously. "What's in it for me?"

Harry smirked. _A stutter..._

"What?"

It was deceptively easy getting into Malfoy's head. He just walked through him with the intent of "sticking" there and poof! It was disorienting, as suddenly his arms and legs belonged to someone else. It felt...cramped but he couldn't move around to make himself comfortable. It was also very cold. Malfoy was shivering.

"W-what the hell, P-potter!"

_You don't seem that surprised,_ Harry observed, feeling almost giddy. It was uncomfortable, but really, it was too cool for words. He was possessing someone!

"Oh, I will be," the blond griped. "It's called shock. Just give me a minute." Harry wasn't interested in waiting for Malfoy to flip out (he could feel it coming, bubbling up from the depths like he was in a kettle and without knowing how, he squashed it) and with a thought _pushed,_ forcing the body to tumble out of the bed, snapping the restraints. For a moment, he worried about harming a body that wasn't his but brushed it aside. He'd just have to be careful is all. He could feel Malfoy's conscious mind pressing against his, warring with it as the thought patterns collided and ricocheted around and Harry realised that if he hadn't been Harry, Malfoy's mind might have rejected him.

He had to have some kind of permission or else it probably wouldn't have worked.

If there had been any pity left for Quirrel in the boy's heart, it was gone now. _Bastard_, he grumped while out loud he said, _We have to find Ginny._

"The b-blood traitor? W-w-what for...argh! S-stop that!"

_She's the reason I'm like this, get a move on!_

Malfoy took a step and then stopped with a wry smile. He held up his hands, "I-I-I'm n-not sure if you've n-noticed b-b-but I'm not in the b-best of shape."

_It'll be fine, just don't touch her book._

"...You are g-going to owe me f-f-for this, P-potter..."

Harry sighed. _Yeah, yeah._

* * *

"Albus! His breathing-!"

"REDUCTO!" Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts and severely out of his league, bellowed in response to Poppy's warning. The brightly coloured orb of what was most likely the strongest reducto Albus had cast in his entire life streaked through the air. Gilgamesh looked at it, and then casually slapped it upwards into the air where it fizzled out. Useless, just like all of his other attempts. Not even disapparating worked.

A split second later, the Greater Being hissed in pain, shaking his hand. "Ah," he muttered. "So that's where it went."

"Gil?"

"I am perfectly fine, Narcissa. That wand doesn't suit him."

It was like someone had dumped a bucket of ice cold water down his back. It was as he feared, despite all that he went through, despite his accomplishments, he was not yet master of his wand. Dumbledore knew his past would come back to haunt him one day but he never thought...Of course.

He almost laughed out loud. He had been warned.

"Your son is one of the affected, would you deny him?" Was it possible to feel this tired? He never used to think so but it was as if just looking at the blonde's cold face had made him age over two hundred years. Narcissa and Gilgamesh exchanged glances and then simulataneously smirked.

"Until the challenge is done," the Greater Being started.

And with a careless wave of her hand, Narcissa finished, "None of the pieces may leave. I'm afraid the boy dies."

As if her words were a signal, Theodore Nott stopped breathing.

* * *

New Incarnate: Incarnate of Justice

Despite her relative youth, Justice is the only Incarnate besides Weaver to currently be almost indistinguishable from the universal Force that inhabits her. Most of the time, she goes by the name Justice rather than Morgan. She answers to Life along with Gilgamesh (Mystery) and her half-brother Arthur, who is often referred to as Truth due his unique memory conditions. The siblings both hail from England during the Middle Ages and have known Merlin personally. Her Realm has not yet been visited.

Geez...don't expect the chapter to stay like this, I'm going to have to rethink how I write this thing. I've noticed my style changing, its like someone else wrote Death's Incarnate and the scene breaks I am using in this chap are getting on my nerves. So! Harry is hitch hiking in Malfoy's head, who saw that coming? For those who know of Dumbledore's past, you can guess what Gil is referring to. for those who don't, you'll have to wait, sorry.


	14. A Pending Resurrection

_**I encourage reviews of any type.**_

**I'm sorry, I was going to get this out last, last Friday but on that day my kitten (barely over a year old) was hit by a car. She was my graduation present, a rag doll cat that was my shadow for her short life time. I got home one day from work, just to be shown a patch of dirt where she had been buried. I was in not in the right frame of mind to update and by god it SHOWED! Unfortunately my schedule got full hella fast for a while, so it took a while for the redo.**

**Harry Potter and the Breath of Life**

_"There are things beyond com**prehension**. In light of this, evil is subjective. Good doesn't exist. There **can be** no free will. The individual is m**eaningless**. There is no such thing as 'Dark' magic, only what is **forbidden**. I have little idea as to what to do with these **revelations, true** or false? Dare I to dwell on them? At first I **thou**ght him fanatic. Twiste**d**, disillusioned but now that I know more **I'm some**what intr**igued**. Can it be that I have missed the bigger **p**icture? Can this all truly be for something as noble **as the greater good**?" - Notes penned by Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, 1942. Emboldened phrases were illegible in original notes. _

_Additional notations: Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore has been accredited with the defeat of the Dark wizard Grindlewald via an Order of Merlin, First Class._

* * *

Draco Malfoy was in an awkward position.

It wasn't the first time he had been in an awkward situation but those others he recovered from pretty quickly. Lockhart hugging "Potter's best friend"? Next class he made sure to "accidently" put his foot in the way of the ponce's path. Having to take Crabbe to Pomfrey when the boy tried to walk through a closed door? At least he got to laugh. Pansy getting the bright idea to start clinging to him? She hated Hermione this year for some reason. Stick around the bookworm, problem solved.

Having Potter in his head?

How could he even _begin_ to redeem himself from this?

_You know, I just realized something... _In spite of himself, Draco flinched at the disembodied voice ringing in the space between his ears. _You don't wear glasses._

_"_O-of course, I d-don't Potter." And what was with the stuttering? No matter he did, he just couldn't keep his teeth from clacking together and it was beginning to hurt his jaw. There was this strange pressure at the back of his head too..he better not turn into some freak like Quirrel or he'd never talk to Potter ever again.

He was being really calm about this, wasn't he?

The intrepid duo made the body march to the Great Hall but once they got there, both boys realized that they had absolutely no idea where to find Ginny. Their best bet was the Gryffindor Commons but being Slytherins (or Slytherin, since Harry didn't really count at the moment) the password was a little out of their reach. Ha! What was he thinking? They were _Slytherin _for Merlin's sake! Nothing was out of their reach!

_What are you doing?_

_There we go..._Draco reasoned, ignoring the voice in his head. It was an ickle Firstie, Gryffindor if the loud colors of his tie were any indication, most likely on his way to class. He'd probably be late, not that the blond cared. With quick and purposeful steps, he crossed the decorated Hall to tail the younger boy. His target didn't have any features that struck out at him, so it was probably a mudblood. All the better.

"You there!" Potter groaned in his head, muttering something that sounded like "no bloody tact." The Firstie turned and taking advantage of the absence of any authority figures, Draco didn't hesitate to shove the smaller boy into the wall. "The p-password to the Gryffindor C-c-commons, if you w-will."

"Wha-but you're a Slytherin!" the boy sputtered and Draco felt his lip curl. _Slytherin, the big bad evil of fairy tales, aren't we?_

_You aren't acting like a saint._

_Shut up, Potter. _The Firstie was getting something like a Gryffindorish look on his face, complete with the defiant tilt of the chin, and without really thinking about it, Draco simply balled a fist and slammed it into the boy's jaw. There was the meaty thud of the impact as well as as a sharp crack from Draco's arm, pain lancing up from his palm all the way to his collar bone. That was odd. He had gotten into scraps before but nothing like this had ever happened-

_You broke your arm. _Potter almost sounded distracted.

_Since when did I get so brittle?_ he thought as he shook the person he had broken his arm punching. "P-password. Now." Even as he demanded, there was this strange itching in his head. A minor annoyance, like a fly that he desperately wanted to get rid of, was flitting around in the space between his ears. First there was this thing with his arm and now his friend (dubious title, to be sure) was messing about. _Potter, what are you doing?_

_We're going to apparate._

_Wha- _his hand spasmed open and the Gryffindor made his escape down the hall, yelling at the top of his lungs like a fool. _We can't apparate in Hogwarts! We don't know where! And we don't know how! _As soon as he thought it, his mind flashed back to the beginning of the year when his Father side-long apparated him to get around the malfunctioning barrier. Turn on heel, jump forward...and he knew Potter had seen it too.

_We'll splinch ourselves to death..._Draco warned as his body shuddered, then started to walk down the hall.

_...I'll bring you back..._Potter muttered, causing the blond no end of confusion. _I promise. I just need, the rest of me._

Draco Malfoy never thought he would ever find himself in this position, a bystander in his own body as the Boy-Who-Lived moved him around like he was under an Imperius. A slight increase in speed...sharp turn...jump...

Pain.

* * *

It was a weird feeling.

Just kind of...falling...out of a body. As Malfoy collapsed, missing both of his arms and the left leg, Harry was left standing, floating in mid air. He was somewhere, it looked like it was under the castle by the damp stone look with many large crisscrossing pipes jutting out from the walls. Water was dripping, he could hear it echoing throughout the chamber. Where were they? Making the body apparate, he had in mind 'Ginny' and ended up...here. He still didn't quite know how, there was just the feeling of being squeezed into an even more cramped space, complete with flashing coloured light and then...

_Malfoy's going to die. _The thought was sudden, jerking his gaze down to where blood was seeping into the wet stone. Severed arms bled quite a bit, Harry would know and at this rate it wouldn't take long for the blond to bleed to death. The boy stared at the unconscious body for a moment.

He should be panicing, right?

_I can bring him back._ He had done it before, but maybe he just didn't want to believe that he had effectively murdered someone to get what he wanted. _I can, just like with Hermione._

But before he could do anything about it, one way or another, Harry needed his body back.

The immortal boy moved down the rest of the hallway, by walking as he would if he was on the ground. The passage soon opened up into a large cavern with the gigantic statue of a man's head imbedded in the far wall. It was grostesque almost, with scraggly stone hair, an ugly grimace, moss and grime covering every inch of it. Thin streams of this oily black substance was wafting up from the floor and walls and-

There!

Underneath the statue's chin was the grey figure of a boy wearing glasses reaching for something on his back and laying on the floor before it was someone with red hair.

Someone...but as he got closer he began to realize that it wasn't Ginny. It was male, for one, taller and wearing this bizarre gold and green robe that kinda reminded him of...of his own favorite robes. Of Thana's robes. An Incarnate? If it was, it was a dead one. He didn't have any visible wounds, and Harry couldn't even be sure that Incarnates needed to breath to live, but there was something _dead _about him. The body was missing something, that presence Thana, Pal and Kring had. The unknown man felt smaller than he looked, like a husk, which really didn't make that much sense.

There was, though, a lot of blood around him. Harry came to a stop just in front of his own petrified body and stared down.

And a small pale hand, that had the smattering of freckles he recognized.

"Immortality affects people differently, don't you think so?"

_Pal. _His fists clenched.

"Some embrace it solemnly, some would kill to keep it, some hate it and others...go mad. You, _thing, _I see being of the fourth category." Harry snorted. Him? Go crazy? Yeah, right, not while he had anything to do about it. "You would kill to live, wouldn't you?"

"So would nearly everyone on the planet," he couldn't help muttering. Duh.

Pal was silent and Harry began to feel a bit awkward. Relatively speaking, the Incarnate was being rather nice for someone who had challenged his immortality (read: wanted him dead). He knew he was technically a ghost or something right now but he thought there would be...more to it. He'd prefer it if his year had just gone normally but this really wasn't-

His eyes betrayed his thoughts, straying down to that small, shriveled, wrinkled hand laying on the stone floor.

-Not that bad...

"What do you want?" He was starting to hate that question. He didn't know why he bothered asking, he never got a straight answer. "Really?" A faint glimmer appeared off to the left and he turned to spot Tinkerbell. Or something. There was this puff ball of dim silver light hovering in the center of the chamber that was greatly reminding him of the Disney movie before the Dursely's had shut it off in fear of encouraging "freakishness."

"There are rules that govern our every step," the light ball said in Pal's voice. "Did you realize this? Did my Thana tell you?"

For a moment, the boy just blinked rapidly, trying to process what he was seeing and hearing. He paused and glanced back at his frozen self with his glasses still perched on a stone nose. Was, was a light puff an Incarnate's true form? On one hand, that was kind of cute, little plushies holding all the awesome powers of the universe, but on the other hand when he thought of Thana it was just...disappointing? Weird?

"Uh, the Weave, right?" he blurted out to cover his momentary stupidity. "Fate?"

"She can only hope," Pal said in a flat tone before sighing dramatically. "Surely you've heard of them? What makes Death stronger than Life, have you ever wondered or simply accepted it like the good little sychophant you are?"

When in doubt, change the subject. "I asked first."

"Isn't it obvious? I want those rules broken!" The light that represented her bobbed closer, flickering wildly as if she was trembling. "Your hands were burnt," she continued softly, almost cooing at him. "What did you witness? Those rules in play..." Pal shuddered and swiftly bobbed across to hover over the mystery man's body as Harry watched her, aware in the back of his mind that time was running out for Malfoy but not exactly sure how to go about fixing his body-less dilemma. Should he just try to "stick" into his own head?

But then he'd still be petrified.

Fuck.

Should have thought this out a bit more.

"-Thana killed the very one controlling Time!" Pal was ranting when he started paying attention again to which he yawned.

"And you killed Weasley." Saying those words gave him an uncomfortable pang but it wasn't as if he even _liked _the youngest Weasley. Hell, he hadn't liked Hermione either but the red head had just been creepy. And she had hit him hard enough to knoock him over in front of Ron. Even if she were alive he'd never forgive that. "So you're point is?"

At once, a vicious snarl echoed throughout the chamber as the silver light grew to be almost blinding. _"I didn't kill her!" _There was a beat of silence, followed by a soft wail as she dimmed back down. "I had to!" she cried desperately, silver light turning a sickly yellow at the edges. "I had to! I didn't touch her! I had to! I made her die!"

And then Pal coughed. Once...twice...red splattered onto the stone. When she spoke again, it was in the same calm, cold voice he heard when he had first met her in Zion. It was actually starting to scare him. "This is how you can bring your parents back, Harry Potter. Allow me to show you."

* * *

"ALBUS!"

It was a sudden event. Every expert he had been to, every book he had read told him in no uncertain terms that it would be sudden. Swift, shocking and utterly devastating but he was Albus Dumbledore! He had Fawkes had chosen each other for a reason but now he was forced to admit, the pheonix's reason had most likely nothing to do with this old man's intelligence. Signs ignored are still signs, after all. Being mortal in an immortal's affairs was simply asking to cease existing at all. What had he been thinking about? His students?

_Albus, old boy, _he thought to himself with a chuckle as his legs gave out from underneath him. _Look how far we have fallen. Useless._

Poppy must be going spare but he truly only had eyes for his former student, who in turn was looking slightly confused herself. "Did you engineer such a blow, Mrs. Malfoy? Truly genius, if I do say so myself."

Narcissa turned to the Greater Being, he couldn't bring himself to even think of it as a 'man' now, beside her. "Gil?"

"Hel," was all it said to her which didn't give Dumbledore the answer he was fishing for, but it was a clue. "Dumbledore." Ah, he was being addressed. He inclined his head politely, ignoring the way he couldn't pry his fingers from his chest. "You should be dead."

He chuckled, the same way he would to a rebellious third year who had just been given a length detention sentence. "I may not have the favor, but Death's attention is enough to live off of." Two identical smirks appeared on Narcissa and 'Gil's faces. "Mystery of mysteries, enigmatic to the last, I see."

He laughed again. "Indeed."

"ALBUS!?"

Oh, that was right. In an almost negligent manner, he flicked his wand in Poppy's direction, feeling it hum darkly and muttered, "Obliviate." Once that blank glaze appeared in the medi-witch's eyes, his next spell was , "Stupefy."

The Nott boy was dead and who knows how many others would pass away from being deprived of care. Impossibilities irked him, but he would find ways around it. He had before and he wasn't above paying the price once again. But for now, he'd let the young Potter rise to the occasion. With that thought, he settled back. His wand hummed, his right hand burned, his heart ached and he laughed quietly to himself, enjoying the utterly baffled expression on Narcissa Malfoy's face.

The irony.

Enigmatic to the last, indeed, and a few tears slipped unnoticed into his beard even as his belly rumbled with laughter.

Fawkes had died.

* * *

"You mean it."

"Of course, thing. Whether I like it or not, you have a talent I would be a fool to ignore."

Her words were pretty. She teach him, really teach him, how to bring people back without the intense effort/blind luck and he had a free dead person to try it on with no consequences. "Who is he?"

"Osiris," she said tersely and he knew he was getting anything else on that front...

"Give me my body back first." The puff twitched, shook and bobbed but in the end she flashed once.

"Done."

He blinked in surprise and annyoingly enough, found himself back in that damn fucking irritating void again. What was it about him and ending up in dark, creepy places? Just about ready to say "fuck this," throw his hands up and admit that Pal cheated him as easily as you could trip a blind man, a pressure suddenly appeared in the back of his head along with a familiar whisper.

_--Welcome back--_

_Uh...hi..._So Eternity was stuck in his body and not with _him _exactly? That was a bit odd all things considered...

_--We've been waiting for you--_

_Hello? _He heard his own voice call out, echoing. _If anyone is here, say something at any time now...I'm bored!_

Harry had enough time to think: "You have to be fucking kidding me" before he promptly ceased to exist.

The pain came in degrees. First it was a mild numbing pain, the type that told the mind that so-and-so body part had fallen asleep on it. Then there was a burning pins and needles kind of pain that usually followed a body part waking up and not being at all happy about it. After that there was the muscle ache of being in one position for over 36 hours, followed by stomach cramping of having gas and then a severe case of eye strain complete with flaky gunk on his eyelids. And he was freezing.

"Gah!" Harry took the easy way out and just fell over, trying to give his body time to adjust to suddenly not being petrified. He had his body back, but the clanging of the Rose hitting the floor reminded him that he owed Palquenta a favor. He shook his head, feeling the weight of his glasses firmly on his nose, flexed his numb fingers and then looked up.

Palquenta had paused, staring up at the ceiling as if something was happening just beyond it, back in the flesh but looking almost...sick. He didn't know why, she wasn't pale, her hair was just as he remembered it being, it even looked as if she had a gained a little weight.

That was it.

As he continued to stare, he began to notice things. She had a bruise on the under side of her right wrist, a few freckles on her nose, a scar on her chin, slightly plumper arms, she looked less like a misplaced angel and more like a human woman. Flawed. Mortal. Even as he thought it, there was a turning in his gut as well as an irritated grumble in the back of head.

_--Women are complicated--_

"What now?" Was that his own breath he was seeing puffing out?

Palquenta's bright blues slowly shifted to focus on him, a wry smile tugging at her lips. "Pick someone to use."

"Ronald Weasely," Harry said immediately, unable to stop his mouth. The Life Incarnate inclined her head, dipping her eyes down to the floor for a fraction of a second.

"Already dead."

The boy's green eyes bugged for a moment. How...when did that happen? He shifted on his butt, thinking...and fuck! He was really cold...he considered putting the bracelet back on just to hold back the shivers but thought better of it. Maybe he could cheat...? "Hermione Granger." Two uncomfortable words to say.

This time, Pal's eyes flashed in irritation. "Already dead."

Fuck. Harry was about ready to beat his head on the floor. Sure he could just pick any of the Gryffindors but it wasn't like they had done anything to...

"Gilderoy Lockhart!"

"Then call out to Thanatos for his life," the woman stated flippantly but there was a slight narrowing of her eyes over the name 'Thanatos.' "Don't use Death's power, but ask it to stand witness. She will not refuse _you_..."

Inside his head he was getting more detailed instructions. _--For any Incarnate you have a link to, except me, you can ask them to validate an act--_

_Why not you?_

_--Complicated--_

Harry curled his fingers into a loose fist but decided not to pry into Eternity's reluctance. He was inside his head, wasn't like he could force anything out of him anyhow. "I, Harry James Potter, ask Death-" he began before this white hot pain exploded in his head just behind his eyes. It throbbed there, growing larger with each pulse until it seemed to overflow down his neck and into his limbs. At first he thought Pal had started screaming but soon realized that it was him.

_--Hang in there...--_

There was a _click!_ from somewhere inside him and a brief glimpse of a dark mirror...bound in rattling chains...

The pain slowly retreated into a dull ache and the chamber was glowing.

Pal laughed triumphantly. "This! Look around you! This is the Chamber of Secrets, an adapting, almost sentient room built by Salazar Slytherin around my Thana's Dead Zone." Harry looked. And then he looked without his glasses on. Every inch of the room, from the pipes, the floor to the statue was covered in glowing _Avada Kedavra _green runes. The thin streams of inky black he had spotted earlier had lightened into a deep greyish color. It was still a wet place but now the shimmering light on the surfaces just made the large underground cavern that much more surreal looking. And Pal was in the center, green light playing off her skin, arms outstretched happily.

"Wait..." Harry breathed, wincing. "You tricked me. You knew this was going to happen!"

"Death recognizes Death," she answered vaguely, slowly lowering her hands. "You did get your wish. Thanatos is quite accomodating, is she not?"

He wanted to say something, anything, stomp off and refuse to help her any further but...was his DADA teacher really dead now? Just like that? Where was Thana anyway? "What does this room do?"

"It's the workshop of a man jealous of true necromancers. Of their life span, their power, it is here that his experiments in prolonging life took place."

"Did he do it?" Harry asked quietly. Just the thought that his House's founder could possibly still be alive somewhere was fascinating. What would he think of the Slytherin house as it was now? Of the pure blood families? And...Pal was being awfully helpful, wasn't she?

"In a way. But his successors acheived much more in this very room." Her electric blue eyes gave Harry a sideways glance. "Horcruxes. And an artificial Incarnate."

There was a snarl in Harry's head and he understood. "Eternity..."

Life Incarnate inclined her head, gesturing towards the body also covered in green runes on the floor. "Shall we?" Even as she spoke, her body shuddered in what seemed like revulsion, causing her to turn her head and spit out a red glob which soon degenerated into hacking coughs. Harry scooted over to the corpse, shivering, and just watched the Life Incarnate slowly start to die.

* * *

Her eyes could see what no one else could.

There was Hogwarts, the castle looming darkly this Halloween and just beyond the gates were too people: one shrouded in a dark grey cloak and the other in expensively tailored wizarding robes, her white-blonde hair clear to see. Just beyond them was an old man sitting on the ground, in shock perhaps? And a plump woman tightly holding a child shaped bundle lying on the ground, neither were moving. She thought about walking up that path, closer but her knowledge of what was going inside the castle kept her at bay.

Later. She'd interfere later. She wasn't afraid of the inevitable outcome, of course not. It just made her chest hurt, her vision burn with nonsensical tears, her throat close up so tight that it ached, her hands would feel clammy and the raw skin on her palms feel uncomfortably tight...

**The nature of Truth is not to hide.**

She almost jumped but instead of feeling happy, ecstatic that Death was speaking to her again, it just drove her mood further down. She had to break him, it had been part of the plan from the beginning so why was she stalling? No...she knew why she was hesitating and...she kind of wished that-

Fucking hell. Fuck it all to bloody fucking HELL. She took another look at the gate. Scene unchanged.

Later. She'd interfere later.

* * *

Good news: I am on target for being in the middle of book three by December. Bad news: I am on target for being in the middle of book three by December. I was hoping for, you know, book five or something but holy hell I ended up delaying the shit out of THAT plan. Very sorry for everyone who waited for this chapter anxiously, it was evil of me to have a semi-cliffhanger and then not update for a month or so. This chapter was actually broken in two, the original was about six thousand words long but I decided to move things around and just bloody update already.


	15. The Final Exhale

**_I encourage reviews of any type._**

**I am alive, NaNo tried to kill me off and then a blood clot in my brain nearly finished the job. Word of warning people: If you start suffering from migraines frequently? CHECK IT OUT!**

**Harry Potter and the Breath of Life**

_"Dark magic twists. It burns, it corrupts, it rots, it stains...the stronger it is the faster it turns untainted men and women into monsters. Nothing can justify using dark magic and nothing ever will. It's more than evil, it's a blight that should never have existed. The laws are legitimate and the Ministry's only purpose is to protect and serve the populace that put it in power. We would never even consider betraying this trust but the fact remains that we may have to do what is necessary. Dark magic destroys. This is not threat, but an inevitable fact. There is no 'making it better,' there are no 'good intentions' behind its use! Dark magic is defined by the base desires needed to cast it! We don't want to create a division in the magical community but all of us are urged, for the good of society, to report suspicions, turn in Dark artifacts, and comply with the recent decrees regarding Dark creatures. We have little choice but no one wants to see a loved one descent into madness." - Reginald Aldus Bones, Wizemgot_

* * *

"Why?"

Palquenta blinked, only once in a quick almost startled fashion but in Truth she had expected the inquery. The boy was strangely fascinating, kneeling on the ground by Osiris as he absently flexed his fingers. Black hair on top that he didn't seem inclined to cut and those green eyes that had been so familiar it hurt, it was no wonder Death didn't like him and her Thana became a bit clingy. They had been cut from the same bolt of cloth, it seemed. Or at the very least, their Threads in the Weave intertwined.

She turned her head away from the boy for a moment as she processed the thought. No one could see the Weave now and it made his question a bit uncomfortable. What if she had been destined to fail from the very beginning? No one would protest that Osiris had died in the manner and at the time he was supposed to, he was dead, wasn't he? If he was not to live again, then what was she doing?

In the face of Everything even an Incarnate, whose untimely death would spell the end of all, was nothing. The Weave could not be changed.

Her Thana held no faith in that one simple Truth. She had known that from the moment Osiris died and Life had forced itself, it and the foreign emotions, memories and connections, onto her. With it came Thana's previously untouched revelation that she could change Everything.

It came through a link that was then thoroughly abused for millenia with Death Incarnate's uncontrollable hate, jealousy and disgust until she taught herself how to shut it off.

Palquenta frowned then, shying away from that train of thought onto another. If Everything could be changed, did it not mean that it's new altered state had already been woven into the Weave? Regardless of what Death broke or killed, nothing would have truly changed. It's futile.

But if she did believe that, then why...?

No one could see the Weave right now. No one could tell her that she would fail with certainty. She knew what the outcome would most likely be but she had to _try._ It made no true sense, it was improbably at best and absurd at the worst. Pal looked at the boy intently, rolling words and phrases around in her head as she thought about what to say. The thing had taken her silence to be a refusal to answer and was still carving out the tiny runes into his palms like she had told him to. She thought about the boy, and realized he had no way of explaining her decision.

If she had told him in Sparta, he would have understood the half formed sentences and vague concepts after some thought. But she could see that he had already Forgotten too much.

"Life meddles," she began in a certain tone. Nostalgic? "If left on its own, Life breeds and replenishes. It is a passive force that permeates Everything mostly unchecked and unguided." Her voice suddenly hardened as she remembered her least favorite aspect of it. "It's also _weak. _Strong enough to overtake mortals, strong enough to dominate Spawns, strong enough to keep things living underneath Death's notice but nothing else."

The boy was frowning openly up at her. "But, what does that have to do with-"

She cut him off. If she allowed him to explain his question, she couldn't continue acting as if she didn't understand it. "Death is the lesser evil. Always will not grant me an audience and I _refuse _to approach the Opposite. Life would intercede so I removed it. You showed me that Death could contradict itself, it is the only way." And it was, she didn't want a copy but to snatch Osiris' soul back from Judgment itself.

Green eyes blinked in surprise. "I did? When?"

Easy question. "Sparta."

At first, his face crinkled in confusion before he remembered. "The first present...but contradict itself?"

"You hurt her," she couldn't help telling him wih glee before quickly sobering. "You hurt me too then. A third wheel is not as glamourous as it sounds."

"It doesn't sound glamourous," the thing told her solemnly and she almost smiled. A third wheel had torn the shut pathways open only for her to discover that her link to Thana had practically atrophied. There were brief flickers that she caught sometimes: amusement, resignation, anger and recently regret and affection. They weren't for her but for a boy who couldn't receive them. She had become the third wheel somehow. The revelation hurt.

"Quite. Are you finished?"

"I'll be able to bring my parents back..." he murmured not-quite-inaudibly as he showed her his bleeding hands. His eyes were wider than they had been a moment ago, as if just realizing that it really was possible. They'd be copies, but they would be real. Idly, she reached out and yanked the lingering Life from the Chamber's basilisk. There was no need for it anymore and the sudden balance shift killed it on the spot. She teased around with the idea of taking the traces of artificial Life from that girl in the castle as well, but dismissed the notion as being petty.

"Let us begin!"

* * *

Somewhen, between the first time he saw her by that tree and now, Pal had lost her mind.

Of that, Harry was 100 percent sure. What he wasn't sure of was whether she actually had a mind to lose or was just good at hiding the lack for short periods of time. It was a lot like dealing with the Dursleys, Uncle Vernon in particular. She had the power to make him miserable-

_--And come down with a case of dead--_ a whisper interjected with a bit less snark than it usually did.

And she knew it. She didn't think highly of him and seemed to greatly cherish something else that his very existence was threatening. He could guess that the "something" was the status quo. Normality, just like his uncle. It could also be "her" Thana. For all he knew, it could be a strange case of those weird fetishes the older Slytherin boys had joked about once or twice when Snape wasn't around. It was...an interesting image...

_--Naughty, naughty boy...--_

_Stuff it._

"Your bracelet..."

Harry refocused hesitantly at Pal's sly tone. "What about it?"

"You will have to use it." Something shifted uneasily in Harry's head after this declaration, even as the blonde woman smiled patiently. "It's a link. More carefully controlled, of course but the function is the same."

_--Harry...-- _the whisper began to warn but he was already two steps ahead. "This won't hurt Thana, will it?"

"No pain, at least," she said crpytically. "Surely that is good enough?"

That was all Harry needed to know and with only a few seconds of hesitation, he laid his cut hands on the body. Just beyond where the frames of his glasses hid, the gree runes that decorated the Chamber flared. With his right hand he fished around for the obsidian bracelet, which squirmed like a real snake, trying to escape. He almost dropped it when he first felt it move, stone usually doesn't do that, but a second later he reflexively tightened his grip. This was the key. He held it out in front of him, left hand still clutching the green and gold robes, and tried to feel nothing.

It was easier and harder than last time. For one, he didn't have a chatty Eternity in his head last time.

_--This is big stuff, Harry. You don't know what this could do to you--_

_Life is here and Thana won't let me die. What could go wrong?_

_--How about...everything!?--_

_You aren't making any sense. Now shut up, I'm trying to concentrate! _With a huff, Eternity did just that and Harry closed his eyes as he began to let everything drain away. He visualized, as he had last time, a power stemming from a void slowly becoming infused with the obsidian snake in his hand. A blue glow crawling up the black, hard body until it reached the head...his heart was threatening to beat out of his chest. This would work! It had to!

_--If this is what you want...-- _Eternity fumbled around softly. _--You need to tell the Chamber--_

"That's easy," he murmured aloud. "I want him to li-" A hand, cool and firm, clamped around his mouth.

"I think I have let this gone far enough, don't you, Palquenta?"

Thana. Harry's eyes popped open as wide as dinner plates. He tried to say something, but with her hand in the way it was nothing but, "Em muhg juch goin beurgh" Afterwards, he wasn't even sure _what _that was supposed to be, so he had the feeling she wouldn't know either.

"I have no idea what you just said," she informed him bluntly, making him turn a bit red in the face as he was suddenly very aware that that his back was against her...um... "But feel free to _keep quiet." _He nodded and the hand came off.

"A reunion, of sorts," Pal drawled coldy, flicking imaginary dirt from her fingernails. "How touching!"

He felt Thana stand up, humming in dark amusement. "You really do hate me, don't you?"

The answer was the ugliest snarl Harry had ever seen on anyone's face, ever. It beat Uncle Vernon's by twenty kilometers and Snape's by at least ten. _At least_. And Snape had the most unattractive face Harry had ever seen on top of that too, so that was saying something. He opened his mouth but Pal sent him a venomous glare that clammed it right up with a vengence. _And to think, she was almost civil towards me..._ Eternity just snorted.

Thana just stepped up beside him and knelt down by the corpse, an odd little smile on her face as she reached out and touched the man's face gently. Gently enough to trigger a decent amount of jealously in both the boy and Life Incarnate.

"Osiris," Harry beat Pal to it. "Right?"

Death's Incarnate sighed wistfully."You would have liked him, Harry. He was incredible."

"_Was _incredible," Pal interjected harshly before softening. "You should not have a problem with me taking him back from your grip, my Thana."

"My grip..." Thana repeated, momentarily looking stricken before she shook her head and nudged Harry with her shoulder. "By using him, hmm?" She put on an exaggerated thinking face, complete with her index finger tapping her chin. "I suppose it might have worked, had he not gone the same way as Harry's parents."

Harry's head snapped up so fast, he could hear and feel the audible crack of his neck. _What?_

_--Oh...Thanatos, surely you did not...--_

Pal's face purpled. _"What did you do!?"_

"So quick to accuse me of doing something..." Thana smiled as she held up a mocking finger. "You need a soul to copy, or to pull back into a body. Osiris and the Potters, no longer have one." It was if, suddenly, he didn't have a pair of lungs, just an empty and cold void in his chest where something frigtening was raging. He couldn't...couldn't breathe...they were gone? Really gone? _Forever? _His mind began to scramble for anything stabilizing. He could never bring his parents back, not even copies..._why!?_

"Harry..." His glasses were tenderly lifted off his face. "Boy, you're crying."

"My parents..." he caught a glimpse of Thana around the glass and there wasn't much. Just a dark haze. "No souls...why?"

She wiped the tears from his face and put his glasses back on. "Why?" She looked at him intently, weighing him; her pale blue eyes were slightly unfocused with thought. And then she came to a decision. "Because I destroyed them."

_MONSTER!_

Harry just stared as Thana only shrugged at Pal's declaration and smiled at him.

Something inside him shattered.

He raised his wand, and she looked at him. "It won't work, boy."

And at point blank range whispered the only spell that came to mind.

_"Avada Kedavra."_

* * *

She had been hoping that he would just simply forget about them. Anything that had been cast through Oblivion's Gate was, slowly but surely, erased from history. Obliviated. Forgotten. There was a reason why she didn't spend a lot of time encouraging him to try to bring his parents back. Just enough so he wouldn't be suspicious that she was hiding something after he brought back that girl, but not enough to have him dwell on it. By the time it mattered, he wouldn't have cared. But Pal _had _to interfere, she_ had_ to do something completely contrary to what Thana was planning and now...

She could have maniuplated him into accepting it. Passed off her fit of jealousy (Harry was hers!) into some bullshit about natural decaying of spirits, or simply said that they had been Judged, were unreachable now and she simply hadn't wanted to upset him. He would have been angry, but Pal wouldn't be able to deny it, and he'd get over it. If he had awoken when she first figured out what Pal was after, she could have even made him cling to her more. She had thought extensively about the possibilities but he had started crying. And she hadn't been able to do it.

Well, she could have. She had done so much to ensure that she _wouldn't _lose him and here she had gone and done it on purpose. It was one thing to be selfish; it was another thing to be selfish and hinder her own schemes in the process. But even as his face went cold, the sheer amount of relief she had felt...

Adi must have been mistaken. It was wrong for her to care about Harry, it was _right. _It...She...the word wouldn't come, not that she knew what she was looking for, but she would figure that out later.

He raised his wand and she felt a pang. "It won't work, boy." _Boy. _She could have slapped herself. Her mouth hadn't gotten the memo, it seemed. His eyes flared in response as he whispered two words and sent a death spell washing over her, black and twisted with the power she allowed him to take from her.

**The little fool.**

_He's angry, I forgive him._ And she did.

There was a sharp _crack!_ that echoed through the Chamber and Thana knew his wand had given out. The donor was dead, and it was channeling something far more powerful and conrary to its very nature through it. The spell ended just as abruptly and for a while, Harry just stared at his broken wand. His eyes were just as glassy as the lenses they were behind, blank and unseeing. Thana uncomfortably diverted her gaze to Pal to discover the other Incarnate curled into a fetal position, spouting denials. It was pathetic, and she almost sneered but caught herself.

_Monster._

"I'm going to kill Voldemort," Harry said dully and she glanced down in surprise. Not unexpected, but for him to say it out loud was new. "And Always as my witness, after him..." he clenched his fist around the splintered wand and raised his head. There was hate in his face. "After him, I'm coming to kill you."

There was a heavy _click_ from within and her heart sank through the floor. Even if he changed his mind, it was a promise he had to keep.

So she smiled, and ruffled his hair. "I'll be waiting," and this time, she did it on purpose. "_Boy._"

* * *

Insanity was more than pleased. His "hunch" had been right, the boy was going to need a new wand and what a coincedence! He would likely attempt to kill Thanatos with it, as he had with his useless one. He needn't have ever worried that things wouldn't turn out as planned: Pal was too stubborn, Thana was only predictable in her ability to piss Pal off and make mistakes with the boy and the boy himself...the man known as Xenophilius Lovegood in the wizarding community banished his viewing window with a pout. He only wished Hel thought to inform him before using his daughter in whatever hair brained scheme she had in mind this era, but it wasn't as if a sick Phoenix would be too much trouble anyway.

Mystery was a genius. Him and Justice both. As well as himself, of course but really, he couldn't take the credit for _this._

"You are far too happy."

Insanity just about choked on his tongue at the sudden and unexplained appearance of Kuan Yin, stern with her arms crossed. He got over his shock and quickly became all smiles. "Things are just going right for once, is all, my dear."

And then Empathy Incarnate smiled softly, taking him off guard. "Not everything goes as planned," she mused and he already knew she had misunderstood the reason for his joy. "But enough is set onto the correct path, wouldn't you agree?"

He let his face turn uncharacteristically serious. "Woman, I think you to be far too optimistic."

* * *

Far from my best work, but I'm a bit out of sorts, sorry! Anyhow, I imagine Harry's response to Thana's admission to be something similar to seeing Sirius fall through the veil, she had essentially destroyed them far beyond what Voldemort could have done. All because she didn't want to lose him to his own parents. I must say she screwed up, ne?


	16. The First Inhale

**I encourage reviews of any type.**

**Harry Potter and the Breath of Life**

_"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches ... born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies ... and the Dark Lord will mark him as equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not ... and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives ... the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies ... and make our lives hell. The last part is not officially part of my True Prophecy, but it may as well be." - The Weaver_

* * *

Thanatos watched in wary amusement as Harry watched his cut hands heal, the flesh knitting together right before his very eyes. "How do you do that, anyway?" He asked absently, flexing his fingers as the last of the self inflicted wounds closed up. "I wondered, but never thought to ask..."

She shrugged lazily and watched the boy push himself off the stone floor and stretch. She knew what he was doing, of course. He hadn't forgiven her; Harry wasn't the type to forgive easily. But he was ignoring it. Pretending, for now, that nothing was wrong. For now. "I suppress Death for while, freeing up Life to do the work," she told him matter-of-factly and then moved on to another subject. "You shouldn't have to worry about the challenge anymore." This tidbit was tentatively offered, unsure how he would take it and in spite of herself, she was erring on the side of caution. Harry had gone from a tool, to a possible friend to a ticking time bomb in her eyes.

Much to her annoyance.

"Pal said all year," he pointed out.

"Just leave the Rose down here. Problem solved."

Harry blinked, taken aback for a moment. Then he looked between her, the Rose and a catatonic Pal incredulously before slapping his forehead. "Now why didn't I think of that?"

"Because you're an idiot?" Thana said brightly and kept the smile on her face even as Harry's was wiped of all emotion as he stared at her.

"Yeah, a right fool," he bit out; his green eyes flashing. "_Silly me._"

It hurt, in an oddly clarifying way. He had every right - and it wasn't as if he could brush the issue of his parents off as easily as her other offenses; if she even allowed herself to hope that he might (which she didn't, but it would be nice...) then it would become obvious that she didn't know the boy at all. But she _did _and that meant she would have to watch her back when he got older. It was like a veil had been lifted off her eyes as Harry sneered, standing up stiffly with wounded pride.

"I'm Waiting for that blond friend of yours." The boy's eyes went wide with guilt and in seconds, he was dashing towards the Chamber entrance. She heard him hissing but didn't think much of it, preferring to brood.

She wasn't in control. Harry had a power over her she didn't fully understand and the wrong words spoken, a poorly timed question, a stray spell, anything at all and the boy would realize that she never had intended to give a damn about him at all. Which would be devastating to more than just her plans and for the first time, she was angry at _herself _for ever thinking she could pull it off in the first place.

She had given Harry her weakness, exactly as she had said. But what she had not said was that she meant it literally. The boy had her weakness and her weakness was her vulnerability to the unwritten rules of the universe. The universe deemed that she had the ability to kill other Incarnates but it had not ordained that she should and doing so meant punishment. But as long as he had on that bracelet, she could fully open the link between them and let him take the consequences of her actions. Up to and conceivably including oblivion.

She blew out a breath. "Fucking hell..."

"Are you going to kill me?" a small whisper interrupted her thoughts from Palquenta; a shivering ball of white as she coughed lightly. "It will never be as it was, never," she murmured brokenly. "He's gone and it will never be alright, never, _forever_...are you going to kill me?" She repeated. "Please do."

"Giving up already," Thana said blandly, not quite caring about how telling it was for Life Incarnate to have a death wish but some what glad that Harry was out of earshot. "Have a Chosen yet? You are third, you know," she waved a flippant hand. "After War and obviously, I haven't killed _him..."_

She wasn't quite sure what Pal would take from the tiny reveal of her future plans, but by her aggravated sigh, she had apparently figured out that no, Thana was not going to kill her right now. "Of course. Never one to do what I want, are you?"

"I don't do what anyone wants. Haven't you learned?"

"Except," Pal started a bit cruelly. "The boy."

"I'm not doing a good job of that either. Anyone not deaf and blind could figure that out," she shot back without any heat to her words. What was the point? _I fucked up. Not point in crying about it. _She let her face settle into a blank mask: disinterested and unconcerned. "You should probably restore Life."

Pal's form stilled and then began to shudder with chuckles as she slowly uncurled. "How casually cruel!" Pal screamed with an edge of hysteria, before she withdrew and smiled widely. Thana felt her eyes narrow. "I can not."

"What do you mean, 'you can not'!?"

Pal sniffed haughtily and patted her robes absentmindedly. "It took a great deal of work rejecting this school in the first place. Until the ninth of August once more at the very least, if not until the next full moon on August ninth, I can not accept Hogwarts once more." The blonde Incarnate smiled bitterly, showing the white of her teeth for a moment. "There is something of a disagreement between me and Life, you see and unlike _you_, I have no raw power to fall back on."

"You can try on the twelth month, can't you?" Thana could almost ignore the pleading tone in her voice. Death doesn't beg. "Or fake it, or something?"

Pal was giving her such a cold, unmoving look that it seemed hopeless. She could see it in her mind's eye - being forced to simply Wait for everyone and having them notice that as one by one they grew sick, or injured themselves that no one was _dying. _Hundreds of people being effectively immortal for months; the others would undoubtedly notice, and Always forbid if the Weaver thought to get involved like she did _last _time...

Pal stood up, forcing Thana to refocus. "I still hate you," she snipped moodily and Thana frowned. _And that means...what...to me? _And Pal then bent to pick up the Rose and with a swift movement, unsheathed it and drove it blade first into the ground. A conduit, the dark haired woman realized immediately and felt a slight tremor shake the ground as Hogwarts' wards proceeded to start greedily draining the Artifact. Palquenta nodded once, sharply, as her stance became unstable. "As you requested, I'm faking it."

"Thank you." It was heartfelt, and Pal could only blink owlishly in disbelief ("You meant that") before vanishing.

She had meant it. Because of what it would inevitably mean to Harry.

Thana laughed harshly, more of a disdainful bark than a sound of joy. "Always...I'm pathetic."

Death had finally ceased lying to herself.

* * *

Even while missing a few limbs and several pints of blood, Draco got heavy rather quickly. Harry was reasonably sure that he could always just drop the boy on the ground and drag him but since it was his fault, carrying him was almost like a self inflicted punishment. The burning pain of his muscles struggling made him feel a little less guilty about being so caught up in everything, about forgetting him and all the others like Nott...

A suspicious burning tingle was making itself known in his eyes and as the monotonous grey of the corridor began to blur, Harry could only reason that a speck of dust must have gotten in behind his lenses. Nothing to be ashamed or embarrassed about...

There was a sarcastic grunt in his head. _--Don't worry, at least I believe you --_

The boy scowled mightily but said nothing in response. Instead, hobbling along and feeling a warm, stickiness seeping through his robes with an ebb and flow reminiscent of a heart beat. Draco might not die while Thana was Waiting, but there was nothing keeping him from bleeding out all the blood he had. What happened, when she waited? Did the tissue still die but the brain still live? Was it only referring to an attached soul? Could you be an immortal vegetable, braindead? A zombie?

Did he even want to find out?

Harry continued to bustle along, straining to remember each turn that led to the Hospital Wing. Was it right or left here? He paused, turning his head back and forth to peer down both halls. He thought left...but as soon as he stepped in that direction he stopped, bit his lip and turned around to gaze sadly at a near identical corridor. Or was it to the right...? He could almost scream in frustration: the worst possible time to start second guessing himself and what was he doing? _Bloody fucking second guessing himself._ He turned this way and that, cursing the Founders for their horrid architecture. Right or left?

Malfoy stirred ever so slighty. _"P-potter..." _he whispered with great effort, labored breathing was yet another sign or how badly the boy was doing.

"I'm going to get you to Pomfrey, so just hold on," he said quickly. Left, he began to walk again but a little faster this time. It had to be left. "Okay?"

_"Hate....you...."_

Harry almost smiled. "Good on you." The corner up ahead was looking familiar, which the Slytherin took to be a good sign. Speeding up, he hit it full force, shifting his center of balance so Draco didn't spill out onto the floor, rounding the sharp curve of the wall and-

Opening his eyes to a blank, slightly off-white ceiling.

_--What happened?--_

_I have no idea._

Harry sat up. The ceiling stretched on to meet equally white washed walls, familiar because he had been here before. The Hospital Wing. But - and Harry looked around, taking in the full beds but the utter lack of a busy medi-witch - how did he get here? Time was missing, and he couldn't remember anything like a flash of a spell, a feeling of magic, or even pain of being bludgeoned over the head that would have at least given him some kind of clue. But there was absolutely nothing. One moment, he was walking down a hallway and the next he was here.

At least, he could see Malfoy's blond head about two beds down.

Mission accomplished.

Somehow.

He swung his legs out from underneath the sheets and discovered his shoes just underneath the lip of the bed's edge. He stuffed his feet into them, looked around while half expecting the missing Pomfrey to burst out of hiding and then darted out the door thinking sneaky thoughts.

He exited the Hospital Wing onto the seventh floor.

"Roight," Harry muttered, casting his gaze up and down the corridor and feeling incredibly vulnerable without a wand. "Like this isn't the least bit creepy." The castle was as quiet as it had ever been. No ghosts, no Peeves, no students, no teachers...He swallowed past a lump in his throat. "I just need to find the stairs."

After approximately fifteen minutes, he didn't find stairs but he did find an open door.

It was just like the other doors in Hogwarts, made of a thick and sturdy wood with metal hinges that might have seen a faint dusting of rust. A little ways off the floor to allow for air flow and a keyed lock. However, this door had quite suddenly appeared in the wall and it actually led somewhere. The castle was rife with vanishing doors. Vanishing rooms was a little more rare.

Harry tried walking past it but he ended up walking all the way down to the very end of the corridor, turn a corner and find him right back at the other end of the hall. First, he was being shuffled around and now something wasn't letting him leave; it was a blatant attempt to get Harry to do something that he probably, in hind sight, would decide that he didn't really want to do.

His eyebrows furrowed. _Can I just shut the door?_

_--Can we?--_

He eyed it, sticking straight out from the stone wall like a rigid sail. _Probably won't do any good... _And so he approached it carefully with more than a little hint of reluctance and edged around the door frame.

Black mist greeted him, shifting in the room like the sea tides and to the back, a mirror.

"Desire welcomes you, Harry Potter." He caught a glimpse of a poisonous yellow eye and dark red hair as a _feeling _washed over him. Something primal nudged him into the room, something that made him _want- _it was uncomfortable, like his pants had suddenly become three sizes too small and his robes were suffocating him. He was getting warm, but shivering and it was-

_"Stop that!"_ he snapped and the emotion washed away. The outline of a woman wearing a flowing shirt that had been cut away from just below the hollow of her neck to curve diagonally across and down to above her left hip, a bare arm of the darkest skin tone Harry had ever seen that was covered in scrawling pink scars, a thoughtful frown...

"So you can feel it," she drawled and the mist rushed to conceal her again. "Interesting."

Harry gave a wordless snarl. _--Who is this?--_

_--Desire--_

_What does she want?_

_--How am I supposed to know?-- _the whisper spat back. _--Desire is more of an bleeding enigma than even Mystery-- _It was exactly the kind of revelation Harry did not want to hear.

The boy slapped a hand to his forehead. "What do you want?"

A chuckle. "Must I beg after a price? Can I not wish to help you free of any charge?" The mist was thinning again, the lazy shifting of the black vapor was almost relaxing, lulling him into a strange sense of security. It just felt too peaceful to be a prelude to violence.

Harry considered her questions for about half a second. "Altruism is beyond you people."

"That statement is telling." He felt something brush against his cheek and he unconsciously leaned away from the touch. "After all, in a few years time you would be one of us."

Her words sent a tiny spark of panic through him, having not forgotten Eternity's claim that he was meant to be replaced. "Explain."

The mist parted to create a path straight to the back of the room where the mirror stood. There was no answer. It was rather obvious what he was now being pushed to do and for a moment, Harry thought about simply walking back out of the room. He didn't need to deal with this shit but the aforementioned "shit" probably would not leave him alone. It was as if the universe was out to get him sometimes.

He started walking deeper into the room and Desire's voice began to sound from all around him.

From the right: "The universe seeks balance. All Incarnates are hosts to a universal force, that is the way of things."

To the left: "From the moment of its creation, it was an extra that should not exist. This was swiftly remedied."

Coming up from behind: "A weak will or a broken mind would have seen the building blocks of your very personality replaced by Eternity Incarnate as dominant. This was _her _intention."

From the mirror before him: "For the moment, this destiny has been thwarted and something far more _pressing _lurks on the horizon."

Harry's eyes swept the top of the mirror and the familiar backwards lettering. He gazed into the dark, smoky glass and to his mild disappointment, once again saw nothing but darkness. "You mean, Voldemort." Glowing, yellow letters began to form in the glass as if they were floating up from the depths of a deep pool to form the words: I am Lord Voldemort. And then rearranged themselves. "Riddle!" Harry spat, surprised and angry at once. "That was the name on that diary, wasn't it?"

"They are waiting for you," was all she said in answer.

"They?"

There was another light touch on his face. "Plague would never accept a tortured wraith, or a powerless apparition to be her Chosen. He needs a body, will you go confront them?"

A shudder rippled through his body, remembering what it had felt the last time they came into close quarters with Voldemort. "No..."

Desire's voice was decisive. "Then they will confront you."

"Why me? The truth," he added before she gave him some bogus answer like "Why not you?" There was silence as the moving mists stilled with tension. "Tell me!"

_--Be careful in pushing her...--_

Harry ignored the warning. "Shame? Petty revenge after having his ass kicked _twice?_ Is that it?"

"A..." she paused and Harry made a show of turning around as if to exit, stopping only at Desire's soft cry. "_A prophecy!"_

And something, a memory, filtered into Harry's mind. Of a voice, of an older male voice telling him something about a Born...about a thread...Fate...and then even further back into first year... - _Why me? _

_Because he's a coward...you remind him that he cannot change the Weave..._

"What does it say?" Was the obvious question but he was disappointed.

"I can not say."

"Will not or can not?"

"I can not say," she repeated and Harry bit his lip, thinking over anything he might have missed.

"Bugger." And something occured to him. "Why does Voldemort need a body?" _Shouldn't he have one already...? _Sure, it was pretty creepy that he had been hiding out in Quirrell's head but he had just brushed it off as a regular possession, like how Harry had done it to Draco. An act of necessity, or something similiar, as a way to get back to his own body.

"He split his soul to avoid Death." And quite suddenly, the voice was coming from right beside him as the elusive women bent over to inspect the letters still floating within the distorted reflection. "To kill him you must destroy them but I would strongly advise you to let him live."

"Why!?" he blurted. "All he's going to do is try to kill _me _and I should just sit still and let him do whatever he bloody feels like?"

Desire turned her head towards him and for a moment, gravity pulled her dark hair away from her face revealing what it hid: A white eye, larger than her other one due to having no eyelids to cover it, with an angry, inflamed streak running through it to match perfectly with the beginnings of a mottled scar that continued down from the eye socket, over her collarbone and further until it disappeared underneath her shirt. The contrast between the left side of her face and her flawless right was jarring enough to have Harry shrink back from it.

"Destroying the pieces," she spoke calmly as if she took no notice if the boy's reaction. "Is killing him little by little. Should you or anyone that can be associated with you commit this crime, Plague can spin an ample reason to declare war."

War. A nasty three lettered word that reverbrated through his skull, vibrated his spine and numbed his toes. War with..with _gods! _"It won't be just against me, will it?" Because that wouldn't turn out very well.

"Plague believes the modern world to be overdue for an armageddon." The way she said it, it was almost like the punch line of seom private joke.

_"Fuck!" _He ran an aggravated hand through the tuft of hair on his crown and smiled crookedly. "Which side will you be on?"

"My own."

"Of course." He rolled his eyes. "Should have seen that coming and - argh! I don't want this!" He threw his hands up in the air and then slumped to stare into the mirror moodily, willing it to show something, anything, as a distraction. And obediently, the letters cleared and the dark mists within began to lighten. A cute scene fluttered into focus, rippling like a reflection after a pebble was dropped into the waters, of a boy and a girl sitting on a beach of black sand. The boy was him, he could see that immediately. The girl took some struggling with his memory, and even then it wasn't until she turned her head to say something silently did he recognize the pale, blue eyes.

Thana, he knew, in a weird way that he couldn't explain.

Both were periodically pointing upwards, watching clouds or pointing out constellations. The boy in the mirror pointed at one and dropped his hand innocently on top of hers. All activity paused. The girl amused, the boy fearful. A second later she bopped him on the head and corrected his hand so that their fingers intertwined. And then she pointed over his shoulder excitedly and his head snapped towards where she was pointing, an embarrassed smile fading into a content one. Carefree. Happy. No challenges, no ulterior motives, no Voldemort, no Dursleys and even, he realized a bit guiltily, no magic.

He stopped short of touching the mirror surface and pulled back. "My life sucks."

"Be cautious," Desire's throaty voice warned him. "Many have wasted away before my mirrors, pining after what they can not have."

"Just a little longer," he murmured, not looking away. "Five minutes."

And a small seed was planted as Harry stared into the mirror and felt his heart ache, one that was buried deep, planned and powered by the presence of the Desire Well. He was immortal. He could do magic. In spite of all the odds, he survived. A mixture of confidence, vanity, convetousness and a need to be in _control _for _once... _No matter what Desire told him, he _could _have this.

He would make sure of it.

* * *

Behind the boy, Adi was watching with a hooded gaze as she counted the conversation. She had not given away anything she hadn't planned to but had learned quite a bit about Thanatos' _champion_. He was naive, gullible even, to believe everything she said at face value. For the most part, she had not uttered a lie but it was all trivial information. He would find out about Riddle eventually. War was coming, provoked or not, it would arrive.

Having him know now changed nothing.

But the difference between now and later, was that _now _he owed her. And Adi had every intention of extracting her pound of flesh in payment. She had nothing against the boy, he was tolerable, but sometimes sacrifices had to be made, in order to obtain your desire.


	17. A Fated Thread

_**I encourage reviews of any type.**_

I know some people might see this as a filler chapter and if it is one, I am sorry! I'm bursting with ideas for the next chapter and the upcoming third book, but have to remember to sit down and finish this one.

**Harry Potter and the Breath of Life**

_"Desire is dangerous, no matter its incarnation. It is not easy to classify, as a want such as wanting food cannot be either good nor evil but it is destructive, it is addicting, it is selfish, poisoning and corrupt. Many confuse desire with the means they will employ to get it. If they do evil in its name then the desire is evil in the eyes of man. If they do good, then it is the opposite. Not so! Morals are seperate from desires. Intentions are seperate, the ability or inability to do is seperate, the approval of humanity is seperate. You want. And that is all that matters. It is a primal emotion and it drives us to the greatest heights, or to the deepest pits of hell." - Myrridin Emrys aka Merlin_

_

* * *

_

Harry opened his eyes to see a friendly face.

"Why hello there!" The man chirped cheerily. "Welcome back to the land of the living." Harry stared at him for several seconds, mentally cataloguing the visual cues: He was wearing lime green and gold with what looked like blue polka dots. Bad fashion sense was a check. White hair. Check. Bandaged eyes. Check. An irritatingly knowing smile. Truth. He turned his head this way and that, squinting upwards, trying to work his mind around where he was, now and what Truth was doing here.

"Hi?" The boy ventured, blinking. What happened to him this time? His eyebrows furrowed as he began to mentally backtrack. He was here, but _before _he was...And then he remembered. Desire. A prophecy. Voldemort. That mirror...he sat up and noticed belatedly that he was, once again, in the Hospital Wing. But it was empty. His was the only bed occupied. Harry's head tilted in confusion, but shrugged it off. "Where'd Desire go?"

Truth's face became solemn. "No where and yet, in truth, to anywhere else. You spent quite a few days in front of her mirror, Harry. I would advise you not seek her out again until you have flushed it out of your system."

A sudden anger took the boy by surprise; Truth had no idea what he was talking about. It couldn't have possibly been several days, a blatant exaggeration if he ever heard one, and with Harry's life as shitty as it was he _needed _that mirror. Throwing his feet off the side of his bed, he told Truth exactly what he thought of his meddling. "I don't need a fucking babysitter," sums it up. He needed to go back to the seventh floor, he didn't need rescuing and- damn it, would he just let go! "I don't need you!" He snarled, yanking at his arm with a wild abandon despite the pain he was causing himself. "Let _go of me!"_

"And Thanatos?" Truth pressed, loosening on his grip just enough to alleviate some of the pain but not enough for the boy's arm to slip free. "Have you not wondered where she is?"

"What about her?" Harry spat in the man's face. His temper was swelling wildly and his stomach felt like it was eating itself, a gnawing hunger that only seemed to become more pressing as the seconds ticked by.

Truth froze as he felt saliva hit his cheek. "I see," he murmured in sorrow before wiping it off and letting go. Harry wasted no time in becoming a whirlwind of fabrics, throwing on his out robes, throwing off the bedsheet, stuffing his feet into his shoes...Truth just watched with a certain, cold feeling of resignation showing clearly on his face. Harry hesitated at the door, feeling his gut broil and his mind hum but didn't take another step. There was something...There was nothing powerful about Truth, unlike the others he had met. It was like being hit with a tower the size of Big Ben and then being poked with a needle. Desire had left Harry feeling...raw...somehow, scraped and tenderized but _it _now exuding from the man made him feel exposed. See through. Vulnerable.

"What are you doing?" he whispered, leaning on the doorway as his knees began to weaken. He could just leave. He should leave. The mirror. Seventh Floor.

Truth inclined his head, a slightly happier expression on his lips. "Your mind is clouded, but is in one piece. You are fortunate and, in truth, horribly cursed. Desire must want something from you." Harry watched him blankly as the man scratched his cheek and slapped his knee. "You are quite the ladies man!" he chortled.

Harry rolled his eyes. "Whatever..." The humming was fading. Slowly ebbing away. He still wanted that mirror but now he was also so very...tired. He couldn't move if he wanted to.

Truth's chuckling began to die as he theatrically wiped at where his eyes _would _be as if he had shed a happy tear. "I envy you not. Keep a firm grip on your logic," he lectured, wagging a finger. "You should be able to deny her when the time comes."

He had no idea what the man was talking about, so he bluffed and shrugged lazily. "Shouldn't you already know?"

"The future is of shifting sand, young immortal. You can see it, touch it, smell it, taste it but good luck trying to build on it." Truth bobbed his head and Harry had the most bizarre feeling that he had just been winked at. What did that mean? "Hogwarts is as Hogwarts was," Truth began in a slightly more serious tone, growing more solemn with every word. "For now. Seek the mirror, ignore your hunger,at your own peril."

Harry shifted awkwardly. "Why? I mean," he amended hastily. "The hunger...Why now?"

"You have no control. It is not your fault, simply a path that once you take, you can not forsake." The man shrugged. "Anything else?"

"I swore to kill Thana," Harry admitted, his eyes darting around as if he expected to be jumped for saying it out loud. Maybe he would, who knew? "Is it...you know, even possible?"

Dissapointment. Disapproval. Shame. Something in Truth had changed and he felt it. "All for naught?" he heard Truth whisper. "Or simply the beginning of a greater tragedy?" There was a short silence until the words came, slow and heavy. "Death can be maniupulated. Death can be weakened. Death can be mastered. Death can be harmed. From one failing to the other, in truth, Death can then be killed by its own hand. Is that not what you wanted, _young immortal?"_

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Harry was aware that he needed air and it exploded out of him so suddenly he felt like his rib cage had collapsed. He felt...relief? Yes, relief and..something else. _By its own hand..._

_--Perhaps another should replace the girl in the mirror-- _the whisper said snidely. _--Or just wait until you get what you want and then kill her--_

_I'm Slytherin. _He wasn't sure which option he was justifying...never mind the fact that he hadn't exactly thought about how he was going to reconcile the two. It was a "burn that bridge when I get to it" kind of thing in his mind. _Don't think she deserves it? _

There was no answer.

"Thank you," he said sincerely out loud and Truth gave him a tight smile.

"Watch your questions, weigh your answers. Hogwarts is as it was and in truth, your train is waiting."

"Why are you so bloody vague?" he muttered, half to to Truth and half to the air. Desire was the only one who gave him straight answers and even then, he was way over his head. Pal was vague, Kring was just plain silent and Thana...would lie to his face. A pang in his chest. He grasped a distraction. "Why are you here, anyway?"

The question got a care free smile and jaunty hand wave. "You are learning."

"Oh, blow it out your fucking arse!" Truth might have been amused by Harry's parting shot, he might not have been. Either way, even as the words formed on the boy's lips, the Hospital Wing was empty. It wasn't until he finally manage to force himself into the hall that he realized: the entire school was empty. Or at least, very close to it.

"Shit, the train!"

* * *

**We do not burn. We do not suffocate. We cannot drown. We cannot be crushed.**

_We are Death, _she answered the rasp of the Void. For a brief moment, she wondered. If the Void was the gate to Nothing and Nowhen, did that make the gate to Everything and Everywhen its Opposite? Was Harry, in some convoluted and twisted way, her antithema? It made little sense, Death had Life after all, so she threw it away, mentally balling it like a wad of paper and tossing it through Oblivion's Gate.

**We are second only to the power of the Universe itself.**

_Incorrect. The Weave reins us. _The Void bristled like a wet cat, but instead of lashing out, it calmed unexpectedly.

**We wear at the strength of Fate. Have we not freed Time from its grasp?**

Thanatos hesitated. The Void had been going through its hissy fit at the time, so _technically_...it was her kill. It gave her a slightly feeling of pride despite the lack of effort that was needed; the fact that she went through with it_ alone_ was making her slow to split the credit. _We have, _she sighed as the Void rustled with impatience. _We have._

There was nothing. The Void had quieted and Thana was content to simply overlook her River until it spoke once more. The difference between BH and AH (Before and After Harry, respectively. It was stupid but once she jokingly thought of it, it wouldn't _fucking disappear like the dumb idea it was_...) was a soothing kind of pain. Before, she and Death were one. It was They. She thought and the Void thought the same. She spoke and both voices were in one accord. Seperation into "Thanatos" and "Death" had been a thinly veiled illusion. The Universe had been at her fingertips, urging her towards more.

Now look at her.

**We make mistakes.**

Her mind reeled. Shock and Awe. No other way to describe that electric feeling of a world shattering _what the fuck!? _moment. She recovered as swiftly as she was able, nearly standing up as she let off a heated, _Eternity is not a mistake! _

**We approached our interest in the boy incorrectly. Observation. Not interaction.**

_But we're- _she stopped. We're what? Better for it? Please. No more lying. They were an absolute wreck being seperated and sinking into a mental anguish she believed she rightfully deserved. She could stop it at any time; she need only to cast off the mortal shell she was in. Win back the gold eyes that had shared her reflection for millenia. Everything would be easier looking through Death's eyes.

But if she did, there was no guarantee that she could revert back. That she would even want to. She _wanted _to feel this...whatever it was...because it had spent so long being Forgotten...

_Next year, another challenge._ She smoothly changed the subject. _Could we _live_ if we had to kill him?_

**We would exist.**

She smiled bitterly. _Of course. More boring millenia being parked on my arse and glaring at everyone?_

**We have been through it before. **A pause. **Perhaps next time... **it suggested slyly.

_I want Harry._

A rumbling sigh. **Fine.**

A subtle change was sweeping through Tartarus, causing her to sit up right, eyes narrowing in suspicion. The mists had parted along the far edge of the Realm, causing an effect much like the effect opening a door has on a previously enclosed room. Something like a draft or a breeze in a place where no air existed. **"**_**The Weaver comes..."**_

And come she did, with two things striking Thana immediately: Her face was clearly visible and she wasn't holding her Artifact. Large brown eyes where there had been none, a soft button nose, small ears, an oval face...the empty canvas was no more. Death's Incarnate weighed her words carefully.

"You look...different." The Weaver smiled, a clear upturning of her lips that made Thana uncomfortable. For as long as she had know Fate Incarnate, you couldn't actually _see _her smile, frown or anything. Was there ice or warmth in that smile? There was no way of knowing. Thana's point of reference was a fuzzy, blank image. "A nice different...I think."

"I have you to thank." It was ice then.

"You're welcome..." Thana began snarkily but was cut off.

"You do realize that you are quite bold, hmm? Prancing about so sure in your power while elevating an undeserving mortal, you would almost think Osiris never existed." A feeler, a scope, an attempt to trigger the infamous temper and Thana saw right through it.

"The dead are dead."

The Weaver nodded in an indulgent manner. "Are they?" Thana didn't realize that she had bitten her tongue almost clean through until she tasted blood. Mind games were never a favourite of Fate's, but she was playing them awfully well right now... "Tell me, do you truly plan on killing us all? And about the boy," here the Weaver's eyebrows furrowed in mock concern. "Will he able to bear the burden?"

"How _do _you know so much, Fate?" She didn't need to ask if the other Incarnates would be told. Some already knew, others would never know until killed. That was Fate's way of doing things. The Weaver gave her this _look _and Thanatos realized that somewhere along the line, she had made an enemy of Fate Incarnate.

Oh well.

"Your prize is not something to be won, Thanatos. You are mad to think otherwise."

"Really?" she asked shrewdly, squinting her blue eyes in a scrutinizing expression. "Because I feel relatively sane right now. A bit hurt (_oh Always Ever Changing does it hurt. He wants to kill me...) _but in one piece." She tilted her head and lifted an eyebrow. "How has brooding been going for you?" There was a tiny tightening of the skin around The Weaver's eyes. She had hit a nerve, meaning that most likely, all Fate had done was bitch and moan since the last time they spoke.

The following words were sharply spoken. "You cannot expect Eternity to hold this Universe together while you poke holes in the pattern, _Death. _There is no possible way that the Weave will let you unravel it." She shook her head sadly, looking for all the Universe as a mother lecturing a wayward child. "It is an impossible endeavor, give it up. It will end as the others have."

The others...so she was believed to be fated to fail. Thana almost started laughing but that would just undermine her current claim of being mentally sound. Even still, there was a slight hysterical edge to her voice. "_Impossible, _you say? I killed Time!" It dropped to a whispering hiss, "P_erhaps, you should let the Weave be the one to stop me. Then we'll see what is **impossible.**"_

The Weaver's body was taunt with anger, a direct contrast to Thana who smirked, leaning lazily back on her Throne like a satisfied feline, flipping a 24 sided dice with three colours in her hands.

_"The challenges will not stop until he dies!"_

Thana's smirk froze on her face. "Or until you do," she agreed pleasantly, inwardly wanting nothing more than to reach out and break that skinny neck... "No hard feelings." Fate turned on her heel and Thana watched her go, seething as she bit her tongue again.

**We do not burn. We do not suffocate. We cannot drown. We cannot be crushed.**

She rolled her eyes, but it was a welcome distraction. As well as a nice ego booster.

_We are Death._

* * *

_Harry? I...I...-what's the word I'm looking for? And...what do I do with it?_

* * *


	18. Cutting Red Tape

_**I encourage reviews of any type.**_

**Hmm, let's see what all our immortal friends are getting into, shall we? **

**Harry Potter and the Breath of Life**

_"Why bother saving the weak? They could not get themselves out of trouble because they were weak and as soon as you leave, they will be screaming for help again. Why bother educating the stupid? The knowledge you give them will never hold and you are wasting your time trying. Why bother protecting the reckless? They will never thank you for your sacrifice and as soon as another danger arrives, guess where they will be. Why bother being their hero at all? You can not save them, you can not protect them and they will not learn. Just go home." - The Weaver_

* * *

It took Harry only one or two seconds for him to realize that someone had tampered with reality and that someone was still meddling.

"My train is waiting, he says..." he murmured out loud with a vague sense of dry humour colouring the words. The train had no choice but to wait as it was just as trapped as everyone else on the platform. Everyone but him.

Wading through the crowd was like walking through a wax museum, complete with still life sized figures of students and the occasional professor. There was no wind, no sound, absolutely no movement at all from Hagrid's opened mouth all the way down to the newspaper on the ground that had been caught mid-flutter. He tried not to touch anyone, in an irrational fear that they would simply shatter, but a morbid sense of curiousity sent him straight into a Ravenclaw's back with no effect. A Hufflepuff Prefect was reaching for the hand of a younger student but no matter how hard Harry pushed and pulled and huffed and puffed, neither budged. A Slytherin who had stuck out her foot in preparation for tripping a Gryffindor who not only remained oblivious but was also unable to fall into the juvenile trap, already caught in another.

Harry squeezed past the Weasely twins who wore identical expressions of cruel mischief and boarded the train. He paused, fidgeting. He was on the train now...and everything remained eerily silent.

_--Do you have to find us a compartment or something?--_

_Maybe..._ He shrugged and kept moving, looking into every small room he passed. _Full....someone I don't know....smells funny...window seat taken....no windows... _And then there was one that boasted a Hermione Granger, a Draco Malfoy and it's very own Harry Potter. All stuck in what seemed to be a lively conversation.

_Hey, look! _Harry thought inwardly as he stared at the trio, feeling his weird-shit-o-meter finally break from the strain. _I have a pod person._

_--And you are strangely calm about that--_

_You know what? I don't think I give a damn anymore._

Hermione was the "same" as always: both recognizable and vastly different. She was laughing at something, hand over her mouth like she was in danger of spitting her teeth out but her other hand was awkwardly placed behind her back...was she scratching her ass? Deciding that he really didn't want to know (and it was awkward standing there in the _perfect _position to find out without her knowing. Not that he wanted to, but since he could...) he shifted attention to Malfoy. The blond had a smirk on that told everyone that he was amused, with a small bandage on his middle finger and a wariness in his eyes Harry didn't like the look of. He was no longer missing limbs but Harry had to wonder how Pomfrey reattached them. A potion?

And then there was his clone.

Who had moved.

"Took you long enough. I should kick your arse for making me sit here this long."

Harry just stared at his doppelgaenger, putting two and two together. "I didn't spend the last few days in the Hospital Wing, did I?"

"Hmm..." the "other" Harry smiled widely. "You're not to bad on the uptake Mr. Potter. Not bad at all. I must admit," he stretched, putting his hands as far up as he could reach. "I probably bombed your midterm but given how _busy _you were, you'd have failed anyway." His hands dropped only to start strumming on an invisible instrument. "I'd say you owe me but it isn't as though _you_ actually asked _me_ to do anything...ah well." His eyebrows furrowed. "Next time, I guess."

"Who the fuck are you?" Immediately after the words left his mouth, Harry winced. There went his pureblood protocol yet again. He had stomped on it before and now he could almost hear it whistling off a cliff. It was if there was something about the Incarnates that kept uncapping the vitriol.

His twin didn't seem to mind, hopping to his feet and dancing this bizarre little jig reminiscent of someone who had fire ants in their trousers as Harry's eyebrows crept up to his hairline. Each word was punctuated by pointing in a random direction while dancing, "I! AM! THE! FUCKINGLY! AWESOME! TYR!" After the performance, one would expect fireworks. Instead, the self proclaimed Tyr blinked slowly, closing his eyes and then opening eye sockets filled with a dark nothing, and struck a pose. "Pretty cool, huh?"

Harry could feel his body trying to flinch back in horror but his mind was rationalizing that Tyr was simply too lame to be afraid of. With or without eyes. "That was..." he cast his mind about for a diplomatic way to say 'You fail at life.' "That was different."

"Pah!" Tyr made a shooing motion. "I'll work on it."

There was an awkward (at least from Harry's point of view) silence.

"So...you're an Incarnate?" He tried.

"Youngest one!" Tyr chirped, strumming what might or might not have been an impressive solo on an air guitar. "Which means that aside from no one taking me seriously, I also get stuck with _the_ lamest errand runs."

He jumped on the opening. "Like impersonating me?"

Tyr gave him a...look that was hard to interpret. "Like the standard clean up when something goes out of line. We may be immortal but perfect we _ain't! _I think this is the first time a challenge affected mortals..." he said nothing for a few seconds before returning to the subject, seemingly forgetting that "affected" was a euphemism for "killed." "Let's just say that you got a free reset. It still happened but no one remembers it in a way that _incriminates _us...Except you, duh. Aren't you a lucky bastard?"

Harry felt the scowl forming. "Its as if you all are just popping out of the woodwork..." Truth. Desire. Death. Life. Who else? How many more? And more importantly, what did they want? He had a hard enough time dealing with just Thana and a bizarre case of mild schizophrenia. "I don't feel very lucky."

"No one does!" Came the disturbingly happy reply. "Until they wake up one day and go 'Holy Shit I'm still alive!' Everyone has to have moments like that sometime in their existence or they're missing out!" Tyr sighed wistfully. "Sounds like fun..., you know, the whole _It's the end of the world as we know it! _thing." The still disguised Incarnate paused to catch his breath. "Anyway, just sit where I was sitting and I can get this show on the road. You were relating a potions-blah-blah mishap, by the way."

Gingerly, Harry sat where directed. Tyr was a chatter box Incarnate...and that almost seemed like an oxymoron. It was almost as if he liked hearing the sound of his own voice...or was just that naturally hyped up. It made Harry wonder what he stood for...He looked across the tiny space in between the seats towards his friends and frowned at the poorly concealed unease in Malfoy's face, and a slight nervousness in Hermione's. Either Tyr did something while masquerading as him or...

"They don't remember, do they?" he tried asking, but the talkative Incarnate was just that: talkative but not stupid. He was gone. "Figures," he grumbled instead.

The sound of static filled the air from a non-existent speaker system. "Tsk, tsk, Mr. Potter! You'll just have to figure it out! And we have blast off in 3....2....1-!"

* * *

_"Longbottom is a health hazard, I swear he is," Harry continued after an odd beat of silence. "Who adds porcupine quills before the nettles? I've lost count of how many cauldrons he's destroyed."_

_Malfoy's smirk widened by a smidgen. "I've lost count of how many points he's lost so far." _

_"Alright, alright," Hermione berated half-heartedly as she pulled open a book and placed it in front of her face. "That is my House you two are making fun of. I'm sure the Hufflepuffs are just as amusing."_

_"Ah, Hufflepuffs. Like that one who fell down the stairs and had his parents withdraw him," The blond glanced at Harry thoughtfully. "...Now, what was his name?"_

_"Finch-Fletchley?" Harry offered in a strange tone, making Hermione give him a sharp look over her reading. He was acting a bit off..._

_"That's the one! They're all a bunch of twits."_

_"Draco!"_

_"What? The duffers are not of your House, problem solved." The girl continued to glare until Malfoy looked away guiltily. "Right, Wizard's Chess then." He cleared his throat the way his father did sometimes when conversation began to sidetrack into waters he didn't think it prudent to explore. "Which side, Potter?"_

_The green eyed boy palmed a piece from the set, looking it over as the game was set up. "We're still on for Christmas, right?"_

_"Of course, I'll have Father owl you a portkey on the Eve." With a small jolt, the train began to slowly crawl forward. "You better get me something good." He was immediately beaned over the head with a hardcover copy of Basic Hexes and Curses._

_"Can you be anymore selfish!?"_

_And Harry laughed. It left him red in the face, clutching an aching stomach, needing to go to the bathroom and convincing his friends that he had gone a bit nutters by the time he was finished. He laughed to spite Fate (Yeah? Well, fuck you too!), loud enough for a certain someone to hear (or so he irrationally hoped), long enough to spite himself (who needs air?) and hard enough to declare to the universe that he was Harry Potter and he wasn't dead yet._

* * *

"Roll call," Tyr droned and proceeded to bypass several hundred ordinances and policies by simply ticking off 'Arthur - Truth' and then ticking off the categories that came after wards. Even though his conscious was berating him in the Weaver's voice about corruption, instability and fuck all he couldn't really find it in him to care. So, one or two Incarnates might be a bit different or changing in appearance (the exact reason why this duty had been created in the first place about a millenia ago but of course, only _after _Osiris did anyone take it seriously)? 1) It made things a little less predicatble and 2) Fate was a meddling bitch who could use a swat on the rear.

Tyr prided himself on his impeccable sense of deduction. After all, who had died and made her boss?

"Is that a clipboard?"

The young Incarnate glanced up with a scowl as the last box in the "Truth" row was filled in. "It's not easy writing on paper without a table," he said by way of explanation only to have Truth chortle for some unknown reason.

"Forgive me, in truth, I simply noticed that you did this last decade," the man paused to smile indulgently as he shifted around, no doubt as a result of his arse going numb again. Tyr made a silent vow to introduce Truth to the concept of whoopie cushions and beanie bags. "The schedule clearly says that it's Hel's turn."

"I _know_," he whined, sticking his pencil behind an ear. "But she doesn't want to be the one to bother Master so I get to fucking do it. It's not like I can say no...." he ended in a self deprecating grumble. To make a long story short, Famine Incarnate had a crush on Plague Incarnate who, in turn, made Famine Incarnate into something of an errand boy. It was absolutely hilarious...when it wasn't fucking pathetic. Nearly everyone had been quick to assure him that the feeling will simply fade after a while but until then...he was stuck. "Alright..." he glanced down at the survey paper again. "Are you sure you are not despairing, angsting, harming yourself or others in misguided attempts to recover humanity, or entertaining thoughts of dying?"

Truth looked amused. "I do not believe so as I have not bothered to get a Chosen yet."

"Good," was all he had to say to that, checking off the final box. Did they _have_ to mimic bureaucracy? Really? "Catch ya later." A short Jump later and he was strolling through a realm densely populated by humongous statues that shared a common theme. There was a perfectly balanced see-saw about fifty feet tall, for example. A circular tube filled up to the half way point with a clear liquid had a limited array of modern technology attached to it: a pump for raising or lowering the level on one side only. A fulcrum with a slowly swinging pole perched on it, never dipping far enough in any one direction to fall off. Water jugs on a pole, draped on a wedge in such a way that neither spilled the other...another see saw...An old fashioned and perfectly even scale shining golden as by far the tallest object, with unbalanced arrays littering the base like scattered toys.

It seemed Justice had just the slightest obsession with symbolism. Now if only he could find the woman in question...

"Thy return from Avalon was most swift." Tyr had a heart attack but being who he was, there was only a brief stab of pain and the sensation that his heart was going to beat out of his chest, before it washed away to the sound of Famine cackling over his little "joke." He prompty began to hum a nameless blue grass tune in his head as payback. "I trust my brother is well?"

"Fucking hell, Morg, there's no reason why you can't just waltz over there and find out yourself," he pointed out with a jab of his pencil and watched her face become slightly troubled.

"He is uncomfortable in my presence."

Tyr couldn't help raising an eyebrow. "You don't say..." he quipped. The issue of Morgan being a power hungry maniac who ended up destroying the kingdom she wanted aside (Truth was a forgiving bloke. He'd probably forgotten all about that already) there still was the small detail that hung over her head. "He probably still can't believe he fucked his sister," he chirped helpfully. "It's been a thousand plus years...pretty sure its not you." He didn't need to see her eyes to know that she was almost willing her gaze to burn a hole though his skull. The woman was practically vibrating with anger but with Famine cheering him on, he twisted the knife a little, waggling his eyebrows, "Thousand years to get _lonely,_ if you know what I mean."

_Now this, _Tyr thought as he watched Justice visibly restrain herself from attempting to kill him. _This is what it feels like to be immortal._ _Staring an angry woman in the face and knowing that you'll live to see another day...._

Famine's wheezing cackle approved. _We sHouLd boRRoW a liTtEe soMetHIng Of DeSirE's. BoTh NEed tO liGHteN uP._

_The tree up her ass is stubborn, I doubt lover-bro can remove it. _Truth's new nickname almost sent Famine into a fit. Giving himself a pat on the back, he pondered what high blood pressure would do to an Incarnate until Justice went still.

"Get out."

"Nuh uh!" He held up his clipboard. "It's that time of decade again!"

She snatched it from him, board, paper and pencil, and furiously ticked off the "Justice" categories. Once finished, she handed the items back and then booted him out before he even had the chance to thank her for doing that part of his work for him. Ah well, he'd be sure to mention that the next time he saw her. His next stop was...he took a glance at the paper. Gao Wenzhong, the home of Empathy Incarnate Kuan Yin.

It was a unique Realm, really, mostly because it was the only one to actually look like a home. The entire thing had been shaped to look, feel and even smell like her old mortal hangout: a Chinese palace straight out of the Qing Dynasty. It was here, she had said once, that she had raised four children and lost two others. It was _her _Realm, her husband beyond long gone, and she really couldn't fathom living anywhere else. Tyr figured that she just lacked a healthy sense of imagination.

"Emp, you in here?" He banged on the front door a few times until it opened for Yin's hand to snake out and get a firm grip on his ear. "Ow!"

"You do know," she started quietly, pulling sharply with a sardonic smirk on her face. "That I could feel you make Justice angry? I have half a mind to march you right back over there to apologize." With her other hand she took his pencil and began marking off the boxes. "But the other half is telling me that it won't do any good." One last twist and he was free.

"So mean..." He glanced over the paper and Jumped away. Gilgamesh was next and then after him he would have to track down Ewah....which wasn't necessary as he appeared right in front of the next two targets as well as his Master herself. He only hesitated for about a second, after all, it wasn't as if Master _knew, _after all. "This is lucky!"

"Survey says!" Master chuckled knowingly, waving him over. "I could have sworn you did this already..."

"Yeah, yeah...." He handed it over to Gil, and idly watched the man fill it out while rocking on his heels. He was tempted to start playing something but none of them would be very appreciative of the "noise." Blasphemy.

"Now, what do you think Weaver is doing right about now?" Master wondered out loud and he put a little extra effort into appearing like he wasn't paying attention. Let's see, we have the gates of Sumeria a little further back with the Hanging Gardens to his left...he angled his head so it looked as if he was looking at the purple sky. It shouldn't be too hard to _not _look interested, right?

"Trying to find the perfect dagger," Ewah winked and briefly pointed a finger at her. "For your back, as usual." Tyr kept his eyes firmly on the clipboard changing hands as Gil coughed and Master cracked her neck nonchalantly. _She thinks its only Fate._

_WhO wILL HavE tHe lASt laUGH? _Roared through his head before it dissolved into high pitched giggling. _WE WILL!_

"That might be interesting." She was the last to take the clipboard, refusing the pencil as she simply burned in her answers with a finger. The casual display of power, of a focus stong enough to limit an external application of a whole tenth of the universe to just burning paper, from anyone else would have been intimidation. Thanatos was just like that, never really thinking her actions through. Well, that wasn't true anymore was it? "So Tyr, tell me, how was Potter?"

"Irritated," he allowed and accepted the board back. "But free of the Mirror! And...on his way home, I guess..."

It was a subtle thing, only really visible in how her eyes seemed to show a little relief, but her face seemed to lighten. "Time flies...gotta go!" She made as if to flicker away, but paused long enough for her eyes to harden. "And tell Adi 'hi' for me, will you?"

Ewah began to laugh hysterically as soon as she was gone, tears streaming from his eyes like some cartoon. "Oh! The poor thing has no idea where her enemies lie!"

Gil shrugged his shoulders. "She knows far more than she lets on. It simply isn't a threat yet."

"It won't do her any good to ignore it," Tyr had to say, feeling something remarkably like guilt. He had once believed that emotion to be the first to go. It sure would explain some things about the actions of the Incarnates. "It will be a threat."

"Well!" Insanity pouted as his fun was cut short. "Say what you will about her knowledge, she isn't omniscient. None are perfect and all that," he waved it off. "Hadn't you best be off, Tyr?"

He took the hint for what it was and Jumped away. Eros and Adi was next...he looked up as soon as the Realm came into view. Or rather...didn't seeing as how the whole thing was occupied by a dense and shifting black mist. It was navigation time. He managed to take a step before the Mists spat out another visitor. Literally. A darkly robed figure was sent pinwheeling into the ground where it lay for a moment before a pale hand was raised.

"Not a word." It declared in an irritated tenor, face still firmly implanted in the ground.

Famine was no good.

"Not a word." Tyr agreed solemnly, feeling his lips twitch. "Need a hand up, Tom?"

"No." In order to prove it, the stoic boy pushed himself off the ground, growling. "Why isn't this working?"

"It'll take at least half a century before you can do it properly." Tyr offered, and watched Tom's head snap towards him with an almost scary gleam in his eyes. At first, he was worried that the boy would go on another rant about being top of the class in his school or something and demand why he couldn't get the hang of it sooner. But then...

"That's right..." the boy said slowly, absently straightening his robes as he faded in and out of sight. "I have time, don't I?"

Famine Incarnate shrugged, seeing an oppurtunity to ditch his chore. "Well, if you're going to be practicing, check the remainder on that list so at least you'll have an excuse to be popping in and out of people's homes, yeah?"

Tom took the clipboard, and with some reluctance grasped the pencil in his long, tapering fingers and held it as if the thing was contagious. "Can I at least use a quill?"

"Whatever," he rolled his eyes. A writing tool was a writing tool, no? "Fate wants it when you're done. Cheerio!" He Jumped back home, conjured his guitar mid-step and let his fingers fly. This was the life.

Until it ends.

* * *

If no one noticed, Truth and Justice are the half-siblings King Arthur and Morgan Le Fay respectively. I apologize for the Tyr centeredness...next will be back to Harry.


	19. The Second Inhale

_**I encourage reviews of any type.**_

This is something of an experimental chapter in terms of style...

**Harry Potter and the Breath of Life**

_"I forsee that it is something that will remain forever misunderstood. Raising the dead, bringing them back. That is not the fearsome power True Necromancers have, regardless of what our predecessors believed. It is the ability to take a human being and routinely strip every memory, every impulse, every emotion they have ever felt and reduce them to nothing more than occupied space. They can feel us raping and using their very soul. There is no word for that kind of pain. And then we kill them. Once you have felt that kind of power over your fellow man...can you be anything other than a god?" - Angela Halrend 1979 -_

* * *

"I guess this is it until next semester..." Malfoy rolled his eyes and made a gagging expression, obviously viewing Hermione's sentimentality as something to be made fun of. Harry, not so gently, stepped on his foot while giving the girl a bright, fake, smile.

"I guess it is. You really should get an owl, you know." Speaking of that, he really should get an owl of his own too. Using the remaining Ergusson birds was all fine and dandy but last summer, Constanze had been getting a bit annoyed with him for not buying his own. He probably wouldn't have the time during winter break but it was going on his list for the summer Diagon Alley trip. "I don't understand why you didn't get one in the first place..."

The girl looked mildly apologetic. "It's an odd animal to have for a pet so my parents-," she gave Malfoy a glance and cleared her throat. "I'll do that."

And then there was an awkward pause. Harry wanted to ask them, did they remember anything!? But if they didn't, blurting out such a weird question would just cause problems. They stuck to the cover story the whole train ride but there was something _off_ about them that made the hair on his neck stand up. Just as he was about to spout something lame and false about having somewhere he needed to be pronto, Hermione took a step forward and threw her arms around his neck.

_"Take care of yourself." _And there was a smell, that reminded the boy of the bleach he had to use on the white laundry back at the Dursley's but not quite...

"I will," he promised as she pulled away, the smell fading as she did so. There was little that could happen in the few weeks of Christmas vacation, what could she possibly be worried about?

She looked at him, looked _through _him, and then nodded towards Malfoy. "Next semester then."

The blond snorted as she walked away, clapping a harder than normal hand on Harry's shoulder. Minor payback for his foot, the boy imagined. "Mayhaps it's a Gryffindor thing. See you on the Eve." And then he off towards his parents, assuming that Harry had someone to meet. He had avoided thinking about it on the train, but this time he didn't have anyone. Shrugging, he picked up the handle to his trunk and watched the entire thing automatically start to hover above the ground with a small pang. The next adult wizard to pass him got a slight tug on his robes.

"Excuse me, sir, but is there a floo nearby?"

The man smiled at him, or rather, at his scar and gave simplistic directions in a babying tone that severely grated on the boy's nerves. "Try not to get lost now, wouldn't want you to disappear on us!"

Harry gave him a blank smile. "Of course not." _Of course not...it isn't as if any of you bothered to find out where I was in the first place._

The floo didn't like him any better this year than it had last year, sweeping him along in dizzying circles before spitting him out in the Manor. "Oof!" Face, meet carpet. Trunk, meet backside. _I fucking hate the floo..._Swearing under his breath, Harry pushed himself up only to become aware of the high pitched, grating laughter of a certain portrait. "Oh, shut up!"

Constanze tried to function. "I-I'm sorreeeehehehe, b-but I haven't seen anyone come through the fireplace like that since your father last visited." His heart sank at the reminder. "He claimed that his shoes were untied, hmph! _Conveniently,_ forgetting that he wasn't wearing those muggle contraptions..."

Grumbling, he left his trunk where it fell with the intention to do his laundry later. All he had on the train were those pumpkin whatchamacallit (what is with wizards and their pumpkins anyway?) and playing a far more sadistic verion of Russian Roulette with the Bertie Botts jelly beans that ended when Harry was shot with a vomit flavored one. He was halfway starved already.

Harry traversed the hallways to the main hall but once he reached it, he stopped. And felt his face burn.

_--Oh ho!--_

Thana was sitting precariously on the stair railing, staring at nothing --wait, not quite nothing. There was a slight warping at a point in front of her face that made his eyes go cross-eyed looking at it. Well, that was all well and good. Thana was spacing out. So what. But unfortunately, for some reason she choose to forgo her usual robe attire and opted for something that looked remarkably like an extra large T-shirt.

And that was it.

And he could tell. She was sitting as she usually did with one leg stretched out and the other bent up in a way that caused the fabric to ride up something fierce...

_Loook awaaaay! _Just turning his head was a colossal effort.

_--No! Look, damnit! Are we a man or not!?--_

He didn't bother dignifying that with a response. He tried closing his eyes but the image...he'd like to complain about it being burned into his eyelids but it wasn't...a bad thing...really. He cleared his throat and took a breath. "THANA!" There was a yelp and a split second later a painful sounding crash followed by creative swearing about him, a spoon with sharpened edges, his arse, lemon juice and baking soda.

_--That imagination scares me--_

_Y-yeah..._

He opened his eyes tentatively, one after the other, and breathed a short sigh of relief. Her shirt was twisting, stretching into the familiar robes in an almost sentient manner. He tried not to think much of it, mostly because she was once more on the second floor poking the air with a tense look of anxiety on her face. A horrible suspicion about the warping he had seen crept up.

"Do you often tear holes in reality when you aren't paying attention?"

"No!" she snapped, dropping her hand in a huff. They stared at each other. "Not really..." Her shoulders slumped guiltily. "Some times. Small ones only!"

Harry raised a finger. "I...am going to say nothing and get something to eat." He didn't want to think, damnit. He wanted food. NOW.

"It won't work," came her voice from behind him, soft and unsure with a tinge of growing dread. "It won't."

His head turned slowly to peer over his shoulder at her, at pale blue eyes that were looking everywhere but at him. "Is that the truth?" he asked dully, already knowing the answer in spite of the fact that it _just wasn't fair._ Every action had a bad consequence, that was the way things seemed to be, intended or not.

Thana flinched at his tone. "Not everything was a lie, you know." She turned her body away from him, like she was preparing to shield herself from something. "You _will_ die."

"I'll do anything...eventually, right?" Thana said nothing, just watching him like one would eye a cornered and rabid animal. He blew out a breath. _Bloody fucking hell. _"Let's get this over with..." She held out a hand and as soon as he felt the cold skin of her hand, the world dissolved into a grey mist and then reformed into some familiar looking streets. London, somewhere, with Big Ben's lit face overlooking them in the distance. Strangely, he could have sworn that it was early evening when he got hom but for some reason the clock was showing a time hours later. "We've been here before," was all he said, settling for just giving the tower a suspicious look instead of voicing his thoughts.

_Jumping does more than move beings through space, huh?_

"We have," she agreed, an eerie little smile alighting on her lips. "In search of a murder that won't damage you too much." She shrugged, looking for all the world like she was completely carefree and careless. Harry knew she wasn't, but it was still a very good act. "I don't think you'll mind this one. These are...his hunting grounds, so to speak."

He quirked a disbeliving eyebrow. "Hunting what?"

"You can't save her but perhaps if you hurry, you'll get to him before the bobbies do."

He felt like tearing his hair out. Some answered him, some didn't. Some lied, some told the truth, some told him what _might _be the truth...he was hungry, he was tired and he was beginning to feel violent. She was not helping. "What the fuck are you talking about!?" The answer came, not from Thana, but by a woman's desperate plea for help down a dark alley way. Thana was immediately forgotten. With almost no thought to his own personal safety, as usual, Harry dashed into the darkness, full of righteous fury. "Hey, fucker-!"

Slimy. Greasy. For a moment, he could almost swear he saw oily tendrils of depravity and corruption waft off the man despite the fact that his glasses were firmly perched on his nose. He couldn't see what the man was doing, but the gurgling whimpers cut off abruptly with a savage movement, and a meaty snap. Heat.

And he was aware.

He could feel the grainy texture of the street, of the building walls as if he was touching it directly. Feel the slight movement of air caused by movement, by breathing. There was a flash of silver and somewhere in Harry's mind, he realized that the man had pulled a knife on him. But looking at the criminal now, lips moving in silent snarls while advancing, he could only think that it was...pathetic. Weak.

Compared to Death itself nipping at the edges of your soul, a knife was _nothing. _Weak, yes, amusing. Mortal. His nostrils flared. He could see, he could hear, he could feel...he didn't understand what was happening but there was something living in his presence. And he wanted it.

Once he made the decision to take that step, the rest was easy.

He let him get close, close enough to stab the knife into his chest with extreme predjudice and gawk when his would-be victim did nothing but flinch.

"Your aim sucks." And then he _pulled._

It peeled off easily, like he was stripping a banana of its covering. It felt like, strangely enough, like clay with this almost sweet, heady smell (?) to it that reminded him of rotting meat in a rubbish bin. For a brief moment, he wanted to give it back. It stunk, damn it, he didn't want to eat this! But a strong sense of self preservation --he would die otherwise!-- finished pulling the flickering ghost into his own body. It washed over him in cold waves, making his knees give out and dump him on the street, panting.

"Holy shit..."

"You...died," came Thana's bewildered voice from the alley way opening. "Potter! You actually fucking _died-!_"

Harry gave a tired grin. "I got better."

_"Without _me!" She shot back, her words were coloured with something... "You did that without me...I wasn't Waiting...guess you don't really need me anymore."

The shot of adrenalin went straight to his heart. She couldn't leave him! Not until he- She couldn't leave him! Others existed and she was closest thing he had to an ally, he was as good as dead as ignorant as he was. He could _use _her because she was invested in him, and just the idea of her leaving permanently was almost...paralyzing...

_I haven't stopped being dependent yet..._

And from within _--Well, you can't expect that to go away in what...a week?--_

"I need you to help me." He spoke plainly, sitting on the dirty street was no place to act high and mighty. There was no reason to lie yet. "You_can_ help me with the challenges, right?"

"_That," _she spat. "Is strictly forbidden. I can't tell you what they are, and I can't directly help. Death Incarnate sponsored you, so Death Incarnate can not interfere in a beneficial way. My hands are tied, after all, I can't simply become _not _me-" she suddenly cut herself off, eyes widening. She had meant it as a throw away statement. She was an Incarnate. If she gave Death up, she stopped being immortal. And the only way to stop being immortal was to die. Physically seperating Death from herself while remaining alive was impos-

Harry just stared at her. He knew, he _knew_ Thana wanted him to succeed. That was the entire reason for the advice on leaving the Rose where it lay, wasn't it? He couldn't die now because then he couldn't give her what she wanted, little fragments that Harry was putting together now put to use. So if there was a loophole, any way to circumvent it, chances were she would think of it... the only question remaining was if she would take it.

He would not be a tool anymore.

_Death can be manipulated._

And she said nothing else.

* * *

"I would have thought you to stay with the boy."

She paused, and eyed him. It was a reasonable assumption, she had been spending a lion's share of her time watching him lately, but for some reason knowing that he assumed, and that he would have been right, stung. She felt like she had gained power by telling herself the truth more often but in exchange was an unsettling loss of control.

She wanted that back.

"He's sleeping." She shrugged and tried to smile. "I just want to visit the Fountain again...can I?"

"Everything I own is forever open to you, my goddess."

Her smile became a bit more genuine, even as her eyes flashed with pity. That answer was so cute, it was pathetic. "Excellent! I'll just walk around until I remember how to find it." As expected, no one would have been surprised, he offered to lead her straight there. The Fountain of Blood was a literal gold fountain that endlessly spilled blood into its basin. It would only stop when mortals stopped killing each other and from its very conception at the beginning of Time, it was still going strong.

She could only sigh as she approached the edge of the red depths. The heart of Sparta. "Beautiful as always." Still smiling impishly, she motioned for Kring to come closer. "Do you know?"

Three little words, can mean so much. Three. "Know what, my goddess?"

And in the end, his outward appearance in relation to hers didn't matter. That which dwelled within him was only a fraction of Death, it would always be inferior and it was ultimately hers.

As Death Incarnate, she took it back.

* * *

She was building a-

Long before she understood the mechanics of it, Palquenta always had a fascination for creation. For giving life to a void in which there was nothing , for perpetuation of existence that, in a strange, exciting way, ensured that not only did the original carry on but that something new could take its rightful place in the universe. Life persevered, it struggled, it grew, it adapted and adopted; it was capable of so many things. The list only expanded as Time passed on. There were traces, essences, of the very first still in the world and it was beautiful.

_(And in this way, she began to view Death as a crime. Ugly.)_

Osiris had been of two minds about it. Sometimes, when she heard him speak, it was about an unstoppable turrent, a storm, a wave, a _force_that could not be denied or thwarted. He had asked her once, what living things needed. Light, she had answered, having seen the way plants stretched towards the sun and having seen the way humans would falter and fall into an odd depression when light withdrew for too long. Air, she had said, having seen that even the fish of the ocean needed to filter pockets of oxygen into themselves to live and that nothing made the cold vacuum between planets its home. Food, she had grumbled and then complained that she was hungry. Everything needed some kind of nourishment, from the smallest parasite to the largest animal, and young Chosens too.

But she had been wrong. All life needs was energy. What makes a heart start beating? What makes a mind start thinking? And this energy comes from Life itself. It was a mistake to view everything in categories; things will and things have gone extinct but until the universe itself ends, Life will find a way. Listening to him then, his face had almost been glowing.

_(And this was the version she always told Thana then. Being allowed to sit on the Throne as she regaled her with tales, excited and unaware of how much it probably hurt the woman-)_

And sometimes Life was personified into something warm but unyielding, empathetic but not compassionate, laughing but unhappy. To him, it had been akin to a lover _(or perhaps exactly like one. It was far from impossible and there was that nasty rumour of where Thanatos originated-) _that kept her distance in public but would not permit dalliances from him. Jealous and controlling, cruel in subtle ways that went unnoticed until it accumulated into a mountain.

There was no way of knowing whether or not his strained mind had exaggerated or even invited such behaviour, but it was a Life that frightened her. The evil witch with a flaming sword and multiple faces, who lived in a large tree and had no qualms about making a nonsense demand and then punishing creation forever after when it was disobeyed.

_(She feared herself since Chosens are picked based on similarity- It was a person she, nonetheless, became. Four faced, or maybe just one, convoluted mess of a being- there used to be two Trees-)_

Her time as a Chosen had been a bittersweet one, retroactively tainted even further by what came after into a poison. She was Osiris' legacy and she was filling his shoes remarkably. Some of the old remained and she liked to think that perhaps she was also composed of something new. And now she was continuing her own existence in that terrible way. It wasn't traditional, but she would take what she could get.

She was building a-

She could feel her Opposite, tentatively poking at the bond that weakly bound them as one of _them _vanished. She could feel the boy, suppressing a similar link. And she could feel the others, hovering around somewhere behind her. Were they feeling confusion? Did they fear what Death would do or did they simply stop caring, as long as it didn't happen to them? What about what was happening to her own self...

"What are you doing?" There was genuine curiousity. A smoky voice, strong and smooth. Desire. She never left her Realm anymore, but she supposed that was no longer true. She was here.

"Trying my hand at creation," she replied honestly. Maybe it would work, maybe it wouldn't. Would the Weave allow it? Did it matter? She was dying and it was absolutely astounding how many things became irrelevant with that realization. What would it be like, at the end? Did it hurt? It was hard to imagine feeling, and knowing nothing. At first, she was tempted to ask her Thana but out of them all, Death Incarnate knew the least about mortality. "Do you need my assistance?"

"I do not believe so." There was a short silence that Pal rather enjoyed. Zion had kicked up a slight breeze because of her mood and the grass waved to her. "Hel was wondering, if you would pledge by Never."

A sudden heat. Disgust. _"No."_

The silence was a little less enjoyable this time as the wind blew hard enough to create a slight chill until she had calmed. Mercurial emotions, did that mean anything? She looked over her shoulder, but Desire was gone. She idly wondered how one could leave her Claimed Realm, without her knowing it, but she wasn't interested in the answer. Shifting her weight, for her foot had gone numb, she returned her attention to the small pile of materials.

A unicorn's heart. A siren's larynx. Sinew from an a Grindylow. Muscle from a centaur. A giant's stomach and liver. A basilisk's entrails. Nerves, carefully harvested, from a vampire. Bones from a leithfold. Replacements for what she had destroyed. Repayment.

She was building a daughter out of the pitiful remains of that girl who gave for nothing. _(Thana, my Thana...why?) _Creating for the same reason by which Always had created. For something to love and be loved by. To no longer be alone.

_child... _a small, broken moan. It was no raging typhoon. It was no callous monster. It was defeated, sad and in pain. But out of habit, it was ignored. w_hat have you done..._

_(Too little. Too late-)_

This time, they will die together.

* * *

And before the very eyes of Fate, the Weave slowly began to unravel.

* * *


End file.
